Kind hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none. - Adelaide Anne Procter

I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be A pleasant road. I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me Aught of its load;

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.

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 voices Shall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear; Angels and Saints await thee, and God needs thee: Beloved, can we bid thee linger here!