And yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
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Anand Thakur
And yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret, And now live idle in a vague regret
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I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys.
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On her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.
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Do not strive to grasp them all.
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It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.
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One of these lives is a fancy, But the other one is true.
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Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife
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The stars can only shine In the dark night.
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One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going
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With heaven’s light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit
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But still our place is kept, and it will wait, Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
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I know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet.
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No star is ever lost we once have seen, We always may be what we might have been.
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I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.
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Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?
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Joy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.
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