I do not ask that flowers should always springBeneath my feetI know too well the poison and the stingOf things too sweet.
"Per Pacem ad Lucem"
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!Adelaide Anne Procter
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!Adelaide Anne Procter
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!"Adelaide Anne Procter
It quieted pain and sorrow,Like love overcoming strife;It seemed the harmonious echoFrom our discordant life.Adelaide Anne Procter
Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.Adelaide Anne Procter
Heaven unites again the links that Earth has broken!For on Earth so much is needed, but in Heaven Love is all!Adelaide Anne Procter
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;Adelaide Anne Procter
Joy is like restless day; but peace divineLike quiet night;Lead me, O Lord, — till perfect Day shall shineThrough Peace to Light.Adelaide Anne Procter
Through the black night and driving rain A ship is struggling, all in vain, To live upon the stormy main; Miserere Domine!Adelaide Anne Procter
O there are Voices of the Past, Links of a broken chain, Wings that can bear me back to Times Which cannot come again; Yet God forbid that I should lose The echoes that remain!Adelaide Anne Procter
Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over 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.Adelaide Anne Procter