SEATED one day at the Organ, <br /> I was weary and ill at ease, <br /> And my fingers wandered idly <br /> Over the noisy keys. <br /> <br /> I do not know what I was playing, <br /> Or what I was dreaming then ; <br /> But I struck one chord of music, <br /> Like the sound of a great Amen. <br /> <br /> It flooded the crimson twilight, <br /> Like the close of an Angel's Psalm, <br />And it lay on my fevered spirit <br /> With a touch of infinite calm. <br /> <br />It quieted pain and sorrow, <br /> Like love overcoming strife ; <br />It seemed the harmonious echo <br /> From our discordant life. <br /> <br />It linked all perplexéd meanings <br /> Into one perfect peace, <br />And trembled away into silence <br /> As if it were loth to cease. <br /> <br />I have sought, but I seek it vainly, <br /> That one lost chord divine, <br />Which came from the soul of the Organ, <br /> And entered into mine. <br /> <br />It may be that Death's bright angel <br /> Will speak in that chord again, <br />It may be that only in Heaven <br /> I shall hear that grand Amen.<br /><br />Adelaide Anne Procter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-lost-chord/
