395. The Lost Chord by Adelaide Anne Procter
Classic Poetry Aloud
AA Procter read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Lost Chord by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825
– 1864) Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill-at-ease; And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I know not what I was playing Or what I was dreaming then, But I struck one
cho...
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AA Procter read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Lost Chord by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825
– 1864) Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill-at-ease; And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I know not 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 perplexèd 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 heav'n I shall hear that grand Amen. First aired: 5 January 2009 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading ©
Classic Poetry Aloud 2009
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Mon January 05 2009
AA Procter read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com ------------------------------------------...
read more
AA Procter read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Lost Chord by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825
– 1864) Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill-at-ease; And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I know not what I was playing Or what I was dreaming then, But I struck one
cho...
read more
AA Procter read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Lost Chord by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825
– 1864) Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill-at-ease; And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I know not 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 perplexèd 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 heav'n I shall hear that grand Amen. First aired: 5 January 2009 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading ©
Classic Poetry Aloud 2009
read less
Tue December 30 2008
WE Henley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------...
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WE Henley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- Invictus by William Ernest Henley (1849 –
1903) Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried
aloud....
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WE Henley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- Invictus by William Ernest Henley (1849 –
1903) Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried
aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find,
me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. First aired: 14 January 2008 For hundreds more
poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2009
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Tue December 30 2008
H Wooton read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com --------------------------------------------...
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H Wooton read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Character of a Happy Life by Sir Henry
Wooton (1568 – 1639) How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose s...
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H Wooton read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Character of a Happy Life by Sir Henry
Wooton (1568 – 1639) How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise, Nor vice; who never understood How deepest wounds are
given by praise; Nor rules of state, but rules of good; Who hath his life from rumours freed; Whose conscience is his strong retreat; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make oppressors
great; Who God doth late and early pray More of His grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend; — This man is free from servile bands Of hope to
rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all. First aired: 4 February 2008 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index.
Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2009
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Tue December 30 2008
A Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com ------------------------------------------...
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A Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- I Stood on a Tower by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(1809 – 1892) I stood on a tower in the wet, And New Year and Old Year met, And winds were roaring and blowing; And I said, 'O years that meet in tears, Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?
'Sc...
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A Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- I Stood on a Tower by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(1809 – 1892) I stood on a tower in the wet, And New Year and Old Year met, And winds were roaring and blowing; And I said, 'O years that meet in tears, Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?
'Science enough and exploring Wanderers coming and going Matter enough for deploring But aught that is worth the knowing?' Seas at my feet were flowing Waves on the shingle pouring, Old Year roaring
and blowing And New Year blowing and roaring. First aired: 2 January 2009 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008
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Tue December 30 2008
A Pope read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- T...
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A Pope read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Quiet Life by Alexander Pope (1688 - 1744)
Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whos...
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A Pope read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past. www.classicpoetryaloud.com -------------------------------------------- The Quiet Life by Alexander Pope (1688 - 1744)
Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night;
study and ease Together mixt, sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a
stone Tell where I lie. First aired: 31 May 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008
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