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 shrine1； 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 speck2 When seen from far away May be a storm, and wreck3 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 strife4 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 woe5 or bliss6 Hangs on some little Now.
