Adelaide Anne Procter

Dreams grow holy put in action.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Know, dear little one! our FatherStill all tender thoughts retain.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Be strong to hope, O Heart!Look towards the light!

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Be strong to love, O Heart!Thou wouldst be strong!

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Shine, ye stars of heaven, Flowers and dreams again!

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Words are mighty, words are living:Echoes in God's skies.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

A little longer yet — a little longer,Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!

— Adelaide Anne Procter

A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee,Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a Night.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

A little longer, and thy Heart, Belovèd,Beloved, can we bid thee linger here!

— Adelaide Anne Procter

I wept that all must die —And conquers all!"

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Seated one day at the organ,Like the sound of a great Amen.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

It quieted pain and sorrow,From our discordant life.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,I shall hear that grand Amen.

— 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 beAught of its load;

— Adelaide Anne Procter

I do not ask that flowers should always springOf things too sweet.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Joy is like restless day; but peace divineThrough Peace to Light.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

How can a mother's heart feel cold or wearyAnd thrust those little angel hands aside?

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Rejoice, oh! grieving heart,And pain is past.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Kind hearts are here; yet would the tenderest oneHave limits to its mercy; God has none.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

Hours are golden links, God's tokenEre the pilgrimage be done.

— Adelaide Anne Procter

If thou couldst trust, poor soul!Wisdom and sight are well, but trust is best.

— Adelaide Anne Procter