Adelaide Anne Procter Quotes
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I wept that all must die -'Yet Love,' I cried, 'doth live, and conquer death -'And Time passed by,And breathed on Love, and killed it with his breathEre Death was nigh.More bitter far than allIt was to know that Love could change and die -Hush! for the ages call'The Love of God lives through eternity,And conquers all!'
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Seated one day at the organ,I was weary and ill at ease,And my fingers wandered idlyOver the noisy keys. I do not know what I was playing,Or what I was dreaming then;But I struck one chord of music,Like the sound of a great Amen.
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Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.
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Know, dear little one! our FatherWill no gentle deed disdain:Love on the cold earth beginningLives divine in Heaven again,While the angel hearts that beat thereStill all tender thoughts retain.
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Words are mighty, words are living:Serpents with their venomous stings,Or bright angels, crowding round us,With heaven's light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit,True or false, that never dies;Every word man's lips have utteredEchoes in God's skies.
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How can a mother's heart feel cold or wearyKnowing her dearer self safe, sheltered, warm?How can she feel her road too dark or dreary,Who knows her treasure sheltered from the storm?How can she sin? Our hearts may be unheeding,Our God forgot, our holy saints defied;But can a mother hear her dead child pleading,And thrust those little angel hands aside?
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I do not ask, O Lord, that life may beA pleasant road.I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from meAught of its load;
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I have sought, but I seek it vainly,That one lost chord divine,Which came from the soul of the Organ,And entered into mine. It may be that Death's bright angelWill speak in that chord again,It may be that only in HeavenI shall hear that grand Amen.
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Be strong to love, O Heart!Love knows not wrong;Didst thou love - creatures even,Life were not long;Didst thou love God in heaven,Thou wouldst be strong!
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It quieted pain and sorrow,Like love overcoming strife;It seemed the harmonious echoFrom our discordant life.
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The way is long and dreary,The path is bleak and bare;Our feet are worn and weary,But we will not despair;More weary was Thy burden,More desolate Thy ways,O Lamb of God, who takestThe sin of the world away,Have mercy upon us.
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Heaven unites again the links that Earth has broken!For on Earth so much is needed, but in Heaven Love is all!
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A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee,And fills thy spirit with a great delight;Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten,Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a Night.
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Be strong to hope, O Heart!Though day is bright,The stars can only shineIn the dark night.Be strong, O Heart of mine,Look towards the light!
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I do not ask that flowers should always springBeneath my feetI know too well the poison and the stingOf things too sweet.
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A little longer yet - a little longer,Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing;And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing,Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!
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Joy is like restless day; but peace divineLike quiet night;Lead me, O Lord, - till perfect Day shall shineThrough Peace to Light.
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I do not ask my cross to understandMy way to see:Better in darkness just to feel Thy handAnd follow Thee.
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Kind hearts are here; yet would the tenderest oneHave limits to its mercy; God has none.
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If thou couldst trust, poor soul!In Him who rules the whole,Thou wouldst find peace and rest;Wisdom and sight are well, but trust is best.
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Hours are golden links, God's tokenReaching heaven; but one by oneTake them, lest the chain be brokenEre the pilgrimage be done.
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A little longer, and thy Heart, Belovèd,Shall beat for ever with a Love divine;And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal,No creature knows and lives, will then be thine.A little longer yet - and angel voicesShall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear;Angels and Saints await thee, and God needs thee:Beloved, can we bid thee linger here!
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Rejoice, oh! grieving heart,The hours fly past;With each some sorrow dies,With each some shadow flies,Until at lastThe red dawn in the eastBids weary night depart,And pain is past.