Now

Sometimes a single hour

Rings thro’ a long life-time,

As from a temple tower

There often falls a chime

From blessed bells, that seems

To fold in Heaven's dreams

Our spirits round a shrine;

Hath such an hour been thine?

Sometimes — who knoweth why?

One minute holds a power

That shadows every hour,

Dialed in life's sky.

A cloud that is a speck

When seen from far away

May be a storm, and wreck

The joys of every day.

Sometimes — it seems not much,

‘ Tis scarcely felt at all —

Grace gives a gentle touch

To hearts for once and all,

Which in the spirit's strife

May all unnoticed be.

And yet it rules a life;

Hath this e'er come to thee?

Sometimes one little word,

Whispered sweet and fleet,

That scarcely can be heard,

Our ears will sudden meet.

And all life's hours along

That whisper may vibrate,

And, like a wizard's song,

Decide our ev'ry fate.

Sometimes a sudden look,

That falleth from some face,

Will steal into each nook

Of life, and leave its trace;

To haunt us to the last,

And sway our ev'ry will

Thro’ all the days to be,

For goodness or for ill;

Hath this e'er come to thee?

Sometimes one minute folds

The hearts of all the years,

Just like the heart that holds

The Infinite in tears;

There be such thing as this —

Who knoweth why, or how?

A life of woe or bliss

Hangs on some little Now.