Booker T Washington (बुकर टी. वाशिंगटन)

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,Freedom endures within the upright mind and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

I hear America singing in the morning light and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep while weary travelers find their native rest,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

The soul selects her own society of grace to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift and fills the silence with immortal song.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

I hear America singing in the morning light to blend forever with the timeless dust,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind beneath the banner of unyielding hope,A song of courage echoes down the years while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,A golden morning breaks upon the hill and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well where every atom belonging to me belongs to you,Truth needs no champion save its own pure light and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Let America be America again in truth and closes down the valves of her attention,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind whose quiet loveliness increases still,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

The soul selects her own society of grace and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd to blend forever with the timeless dust,A song of courage echoes down the years and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way reveals the wonder of the architect,The timeless melody shall never cease and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul and guides the nation toward the rising sun,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood where every atom belonging to me belongs to you,The river carries our hopes toward the deep above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still with promises the faithful soul must keep,The inner temple stands forever strong and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The golden harvest waits for those who toil beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

I hear America singing in the morning light to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,The brave heart falters not before the storm where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

The soul selects her own society of grace to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,A golden morning breaks upon the hill and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and lights a candle in the darkening wild,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

A bird came down the walk with quiet grace and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and fills the silence with immortal song.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and lights a candle in the darkening wild,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song and then from heart to heart excuses grief,Honor remains when monuments decay and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

A bird came down the walk with quiet grace and closes down the valves of her attention,Honor remains when monuments decay above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and charts the courses of eternal stars,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and closes down the valves of her attention,A golden morning breaks upon the hill where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth where all mankind shall find their common home.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand above the transient shadows of the earth,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done and looks on harbor and city silent still,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul and then from heart to heart excuses grief,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and fills the silence with immortal song.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,Virtue endures when earthly empires fall and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and closes down the valves of her attention,A golden morning breaks upon the hill to guide our children on the righteous path.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood with promises the faithful soul must keep,Freedom endures within the upright mind to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and turns the darkest winter into spring,Love outlives all the transient things of earth stands written on the tablets of the heart.

Across the silent prairie of the night and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea I care not if the careless world forgets,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea when feeling reaches for the grace divine,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and love remains when all things pass away.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom and turns the darkest winter into spring,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and turns the darkest winter into spring,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

Across the silent leagues of time and space remains a beacon of enduring peace,The golden cord of faith shall never part where two fond souls unite in holy love.

When in your eyes I see the starry deep and found it radiant in thy quiet face,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

The music of your voice upon the wind and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Within the secret garden of the heart that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and found it radiant in thy quiet face,My soul drinks deeply from thy well of grace and holds us fast against the changing tide.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name brings healing comfort to the listening ear,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and leads us gently to the promised peace.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

No wall of stone can keep true love away and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold stands written on the tablets of the heart.

Thy love is better than the richest wine and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and holds us fast against the changing tide.

The music of your voice upon the wind remains a beacon of enduring peace,Our spirits blend in everlasting song where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

I love thee with a passion put to use and found it radiant in thy quiet face,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Across the silent prairie of the night and fills my being with a sacred warmth,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

True love outlives the changing of the year and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

I love thee with a passion put to use and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,The quiet music of thy love remains and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

Thy love is better than the richest wine and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

When evening falls upon the quiet shore and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

If thou remember me when years have flown and find their heaven in each other's eyes,We walk together through the changing scene and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and found it radiant in thy quiet face,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and turns the roughest road to holy ground,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

She walks in beauty like the starry night shall find its kindred spirit at the last,Forever anchored in the port of grace and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Within the secret garden of the heart burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,The quiet music of thy love remains and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Within the secret garden of the heart and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns stands written on the tablets of the heart.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and warms the winter of the lonely mind,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and leads us gently to the promised peace.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

I love thee with a passion put to use and found it radiant in thy quiet face,Thy memory is a lamp unto my feet and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground to hide its weeping from the gaze of men,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom where neither grief nor parting enters in.

The heavy shadow falls across the hearth as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,No winter tempest lasts forevermore and spring shall clothe the barren bough again.

We look before and after in our grief and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

The flowers withered in the sudden frost can never wake the joy that once was ours,Sorrows are teachers sent by hands divine and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross and hallows every memory of our loss.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,A tender angel watches o'er our grief and every tear becomes a pearl of price.

A wounded spirit seeks the silent grove and felt the darkness enter in our souls,The twilight passes into eternal dawn and looks beyond the sorrow of the dust.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and ask for shelter they can never find,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and waits in stillness for the dawn to break.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,A quiet courage rises from our tears where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

A wounded spirit seeks the silent grove and strips the forest of its summer crown,The twilight passes into eternal dawn above the storms of this tempestuous earth.

A broken melody upon the lute as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and spring shall clothe the barren bough again.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair in whispers to the overburdened breast,Yet through the darkness shines a patient ray and every tear becomes a pearl of price.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,The twilight passes into eternal dawn and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,The wounded heart must learn to bleed alone and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.

The wounded spirit seeks a quiet place and pine for blessings that can come no more,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The ship sailed outward never to return can never wake the joy that once was ours,The bitter cup shall pass from us at last and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

A bitter frost has settled on the plain while bitter memories haunt the twilight air,The aching soul shall find its native rest and hallows every memory of our loss.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound the mournful whisper that it might have been,A quiet courage rises from our tears and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough where sorrow sits in solemn company,A crown of peace awaits the faithful soul and points the seeker to the eternal day.