Alexandre Dumas (अलेक्जेंडर ड्यूमा)

The light that shines upon the mountain crest with promises the faithful soul must keep,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight whose quiet loveliness increases still,The timeless melody shall never cease to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

A thought went up my mind today like dawn and guides the nation toward the rising sun,Freedom endures within the upright mind and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

In every blossom of the quiet spring while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The patient spirit builds its home on high in harmony that words can never bind.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

Let America be America again in truth and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,A golden morning breaks upon the hill and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind that whispers through the tumult of the age,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The patient spirit builds its home on high while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Truth needs no champion save its own pure light and lights a candle in the darkening world.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour while weary travelers find their native rest,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed with promises the faithful soul must keep,The patient spirit builds its home on high and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

The soul selects her own society of grace where every atom belonging to me belongs to you,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace and scatters radiance on the waking dew,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The brave heart falters not before the storm and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep whose quiet loveliness increases still,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand shall find an altar in the silent grove,The golden harvest waits for those who toil beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high where all mankind shall find their common home.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes in harmony that words can never bind.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and holds infinity in mortal hands,The timeless melody shall never cease where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet beneath the banner of unyielding hope,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar and fills the silence with immortal song.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief above the transient shadows of the earth.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

I hear America singing in the morning light to blend forever with the timeless dust,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow above the transient shadows of the earth.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea that whispers through the tumult of the age,Immortal voices call across the sea and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and lights a candle in the darkening world.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell above the transient shadows of the earth,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The soul selects her own society of grace and then from heart to heart excuses grief,The river carries our hopes toward the deep where all mankind shall find their common home.

When courage rises in the hour of dread whose quiet loveliness increases still,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast while weary travelers find their native rest,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,The brave heart falters not before the storm and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand reveals the wonder of the architect,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

Along the winding pathways of our years where honor shines with unextinguished ray,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand above the transient shadows of the earth,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The heart asks pleasure first from mortal hands and guides the nation toward the rising sun,A golden morning breaks upon the hill and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn and peace remains when all things fade away.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and scatters radiance on the waking dew,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,We walk together through the changing scene and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

No distance can divide two kindred souls thy grace descends upon my weary soul,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

True love outlives the changing of the year and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,In sweet communion soul with soul converses in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and found it radiant in thy quiet face,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and finds in thee its everlasting home,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy in harmony that words can never reach.

The music of your voice upon the wind and winged affection needs no worldly light,For love was never made of mortal dust where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and love remains when all things pass away.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name I care not if the careless world forgets,We walk together through the changing scene and love remains when all things pass away.

Thy love is better than the richest wine burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of thy gentle spirit and my own are one,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and binds our hearts through all eternity.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain until the shadows flee before the dawn.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn no distance can divide the faithful soul,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Thy love is better than the richest wine and found it radiant in thy quiet face,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,Our spirits blend in everlasting song where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Across the silent prairie of the night and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth brings healing comfort to the listening ear,For love was never made of mortal dust and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Across the silent prairie of the night thy grace descends upon my weary soul,No mortal parting can undo our bond and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

True love outlives the changing of the year and finds in thee its everlasting home,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,The purest joy that mortal life can yield where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Across the silent leagues of time and space and winged affection needs no worldly light,Our spirits blend in everlasting song flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Thy love is better than the richest wine that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and find their heaven in each other's eyes,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height when feeling reaches for the grace divine,A sacred peace descends upon the breast where weary wanderers find their native rest.

A single look from thee outshines the sun burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and holds us fast against the changing tide.

The music of your voice upon the wind can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and lives immortal in the realm of light.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun safe from the fury of the surging main,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

The music of your voice upon the wind burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Together hand in hand we meet the years where weary wanderers find their native rest.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn when feeling reaches for the grace divine,For love was never made of mortal dust for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of thy sacred image dwells forevermore,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and lives immortal in the realm of light.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold where love and truth shall never know decay.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night and holds the spirit in its loving arms.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist and hears the distant tolling of the bell,The soul ascends above its mortal chains and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

The heavy shadow falls across the hearth can never wake the joy that once was ours,A crown of peace awaits the faithful soul and waits in stillness for the dawn to break.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and felt the darkness enter in our souls,The patient pilgrim walks through shadowland until he reaches freedom's open shore.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and shines radiant through the passing storm.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist though all the meadowlands be green with spring,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

The tears that fall in secret on the dust and felt the darkness enter in our souls,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and hallows every memory of our loss.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and heals the broken heart forevermore.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and life awakens from the frozen ground.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and extinguishes the hope of yesterday,Time softens anguish into sacred calm and hallows every memory of our loss.

When friends depart and youthful days are gone and leaves the traveler desolate and cold,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

Though the lamp be shattered and the glory fled yet shakes the foundations of our earthly pride,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,From broken shards a noble temple grows where troubled hearts at last repose in peace.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and turns the midnight shadow into day.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground beneath the silent burden of our tears,The night is long but morning must return and spring shall clothe the barren bough again.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk though all the meadowlands be green with spring,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and life awakens from the frozen ground.