Tag: Quote of the Day

NOW

Rise! for the day is passing,

And you lie dreaming on;

The others have buckled their armour,

And forth to the fight are gone:

A place in the ranks awaits you,

Each man has some part to play;

The Past and the Future are nothing,

In the face of the stern To-day.

Rise from your dreams of the Future–

Of gaining some hard-fought field;

Of storming some airy fortress,

Or bidding some giant yield;

Your Future has deeds of glory,

Of honour (God grant it may!)

But your arm will never be stronger,

Or the need so great as To-day.

Rise! if the Past detains you,

Her sunshine and storms forget;

No chains so unworthy to hold you

As those of a vain regret:

Sad or bright, she is lifeless ever,

Cast her phantom arms away,

Nor look back, save to learn the lesson

Of a nobler strife To-day.

Rise! for the day is passing:

The sound that you scarcely hear

Is the enemy marching to battle–

Arise! for the foe is here!

Stay not to sharpen your weapons,

Or the hour will strike at last,

When, from dreams of a coming battle,

You may wake to find it past!

Adelaide Anne Procter

A LOST CHORD

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.

It flooded the crimson twilight

Like the close of an Angel’s Psalm,

And it lay on my fevered spirit

With a touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,

Like love overcoming strife;

It seemed the harmonious echo

From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexed meanings

Into one perfect peace,

And trembled away into silence

As if it were loth to cease.

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 angel

Will speak in that chord again,–

It may be that only in Heaven

I shall hear that grand Amen.

Adelaide Anne Procter