A LOST CHORD - Adelaide Procter Poems


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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 perplexéd 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.