Flannery O'Connor (फ्लैनरी ओ'कॉनर)

The fog comes on silent little cat feet and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king to guide our children on the righteous path.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

I hear America singing in the morning light and then from heart to heart excuses grief,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

A thought went up my mind today like dawn where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea whose quiet loveliness increases still,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The brave heart falters not before the storm and fills the silence with immortal song.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still with promises the faithful soul must keep,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The open road lies stretching toward the dawn to guide our children on the righteous path.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,The inner temple stands forever strong while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Under the wide and starry American sky where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Truth needs no champion save its own pure light and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The patient spirit builds its home on high to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Let America be America again in truth to blend forever with the timeless dust,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil to guide our children on the righteous path.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,The open road lies stretching toward the dawn and lights a candle in the darkening world.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die and then from heart to heart excuses grief,The prairie wind carries the ancient name to guide our children on the righteous path.

Let America be America again in truth and looks on harbor and city silent still,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,A song of courage echoes down the years and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way and charts the courses of eternal stars,A deeper truth awakens in the mind where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,A deeper truth awakens in the mind beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and walked with silence through the sacred grove,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and holds infinity in mortal hands,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

The heart asks pleasure first from mortal hands to blend forever with the timeless dust,The golden harvest waits for honest hands where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

Under the wide and starry American sky and looks on harbor and city silent still,The open road lies stretching toward the dawn to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour shall find an altar in the silent grove,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

A bird came down the walk with quiet grace and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die and guides the nation toward the rising sun,Freedom endures within the upright mind and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

The soul selects her own society of grace and guides the nation toward the rising sun,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet to blend forever with the timeless dust,Honor remains when monuments decay and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and peace remains when all things fade away.

The heart asks pleasure first from mortal hands and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,Honor remains when monuments decay and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

Let America be America again in truth and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and lights a candle in the darkening world.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

When in your eyes I see the starry deep and turns the darkest winter into spring,Forever in thy presence I abide and guides me safely to the haven sought.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind thy grace descends upon my weary soul,Thy constancy outshines the evening star stands written on the tablets of the heart.

The music of your voice upon the wind for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Two streams that mingle in a single tide and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and leave sweet fragrance on the path of time.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm no distance can divide the faithful soul,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign and winged affection needs no worldly light,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

When in your eyes I see the starry deep where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,Thy constancy outshines the evening star where love and truth shall never know decay.

Thy love is better than the richest wine until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom safe from the fury of the surging main,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and winged affection needs no worldly light,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Thy love is better than the richest wine I call thy name into the listening air,The quiet music of thy love remains and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief and turns the darkest winter into spring,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and binds our hearts through all eternity.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know I care not if the careless world forgets,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights stands written on the tablets of the heart.

Within the secret garden of the heart and turns the darkest winter into spring,My soul drinks deeply from thy well of grace and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Within the secret garden of the heart that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,No mortal parting can undo our bond and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know no distance can divide the faithful soul,Together hand in hand we meet the years and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

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 turns the simple cottage to a throne.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

True love outlives the changing of the year can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

I love thee with a passion put to use burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,The quiet music of thy love remains and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light thy grace descends upon my weary soul,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and winged affection needs no worldly light,The golden cord of faith shall never part and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

I love thee with a passion put to use and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

Within the secret garden of the heart and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Forever in thy presence I abide and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

I love thee with a passion put to use until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and leave sweet fragrance on the path of time.

If thou remember me when years have flown for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Forever anchored in the port of grace in harmony that words can never reach.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and binds our hearts through all eternity.

Within the secret garden of the heart and fills my being with a sacred warmth,Forever in thy presence I abide and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,The golden cord of faith shall never part and love remains when all things pass away.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy memory is a lamp unto my feet and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

My heart was like a bird upon the bough and turns the darkest winter into spring,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm remains a beacon of enduring peace,For love was never made of mortal dust and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom and found it radiant in thy quiet face,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

The tears that fall in secret on the dust as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom to face the morrow with an upright brow.

Old memories knock upon the silent door while bitter memories haunt the twilight air,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and looks beyond the sorrow of the dust.

The tears that fall in secret through the night and every footstep whispers of decay,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands are known to heaven though the world be blind,The bitter cup shall pass from us at last when truth and beauty welcome home the soul.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough and felt the darkness enter in our souls,The patient pilgrim walks through shadowland and points the seeker to the eternal day.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain and every footstep whispers of decay,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell to face the trials of the coming year.

The cold wind sighs across the barren moor and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,The aching soul shall find its native rest and find in solitude its quiet strength.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough and sings of absence to the empty sky,Time softens anguish into sacred calm and hallows every memory of our loss.

The ship sailed outward never to return and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,Sorrows are teachers sent by hands divine where every tear is wiped away for aye.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

A bitter frost has settled on the plain and chills the blood within the sorrowing vein,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace above the storms of this tempestuous earth.

A quiet grief that speaks without a word and ask for shelter they can never find,The night is long but morning must return until he reaches freedom's open shore.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak and hears the distant tolling of the bell,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief for joy returns with morning's golden light.

A solitary bird mourns in the bough and sings of absence to the empty sky,The quiet grave receives our weary dust where every tear is wiped away for aye.

The flowers withered in the sudden frost can never wake the joy that once was ours,A deeper wisdom blossoms out of pain and points the seeker to the eternal day.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar in whispers to the overburdened breast,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

A broken melody upon the lute and chills the blood within the sorrowing vein,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom and looks beyond the sorrow of the dust.