Page 761

Adelaide Anne Procter. (1825–1864) (continued)

7539

    Joy is like restless day; but peace divine
      Like quiet night;
Lead me, O Lord,—till perfect Day shall shine
      Through Peace to Light.

Per Pacem ad Lucem.

7540

Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,
But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.

Philip and Mildred.

7541

    Seated one day at the organ,
  I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
  Over the noisy keys.

A lost Chord.

7542

It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.

A lost Chord.

Bayard Taylor. (1825–1878)

7543

Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars are old,
And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.

Bedouin Song.

7544

    They sang of love, and not of fame;
  Forgot was Britain’s glory;
Each heart recalled a different name,
  But all sang Annie Lawrie.

The Song of the Camp.

7545

The bravest are the tenderest,—
The loving are the daring.

The Song of the Camp.

7546

Shelved round us lie
The mummied authors.

The Poet’s Journal. Third Evening.