Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys. It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life. — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
“No star is ever lost we once have seen, We always may be what we might have been Since Good, though only thought, Has… — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
Half my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new; One of these lives is a fancy, But the other… — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
No star is lost once we have seen, We always may be what we might have been. — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
No star is ever lost we once have seen, we always may be what we might have been. — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none. — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
I know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet. — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
“Our Beasts and our Thieves and our Chattels Have weight for good or for ill; But the Poor are only His image, His presence,… — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
The men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be, for when the horse and ass begin to think… — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
“Have we not all, amid life's petty strife, Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible? Did we not hear The… — Adelaide Anne Procter Copy Share Image
