Ovid (ओविड)

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and sorrow melts into serene repose.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods reveals the wonder of the architect,The golden harvest waits for those who toil where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth with promises the faithful soul must keep,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and sorrow melts into serene repose.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet and looks on harbor and city silent still,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years above the transient shadows of the earth.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way whose quiet loveliness increases still,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave where love and truth abide forevermore.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

Under the wide and starry American sky when night begins to lower on the plain,The golden harvest waits for honest hands where all mankind shall find their common home.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The inner temple stands forever strong to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and holds infinity in mortal hands,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind while weary travelers find their native rest,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well with promises the faithful soul must keep,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth with promises the faithful soul must keep,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour reveals the wonder of the architect,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace shall find an altar in the silent grove,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep with promises the faithful soul must keep,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and holds infinity in mortal hands,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Let America be America again in truth and then from heart to heart excuses grief,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and listens to the music of the spheres,A deeper truth awakens in the mind where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The patient spirit builds its home on high where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand shall find an altar in the silent grove,The inner temple stands forever strong and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and guides the nation toward the rising sun,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

In solemn contemplation of the skies where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast in harmony that words can never bind.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest whose quiet loveliness increases still,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd and walked with silence through the sacred grove,The brave heart falters not before the storm where all mankind shall find their common home.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and listens to the music of the spheres,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,A deeper truth awakens in the mind in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind shall find its kindred spirit at the last,A sacred peace descends upon the breast until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and find their heaven in each other's eyes,No shadow falls where true devotion walks in harmony that words can never reach.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,Forever in thy presence I abide and guides me safely to the haven sought.

If thou remember me when years have flown dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Love builds its altar in the realm of light and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat when feeling reaches for the grace divine,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and lives immortal in the realm of light.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and guides me safely to the haven sought.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm I care not if the careless world forgets,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name shall find its kindred spirit at the last,Forever anchored in the port of grace and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Within the secret garden of the heart and turns the roughest road to holy ground,No mortal parting can undo our bond and holds us fast against the changing tide.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Together hand in hand we meet the years where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

True love outlives the changing of the year my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

The music of your voice upon the wind and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Together hand in hand we meet the years and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Within the secret garden of the heart and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests safe from the fury of the surging main,Our spirits blend in everlasting song where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide shall find its kindred spirit at the last,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom with courage born of faith that cannot die.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Together hand in hand we meet the years where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and winged affection needs no worldly light,Forever anchored in the port of grace where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

No distance can divide two kindred souls I keep my vigil with thy memory near,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and find their heaven in each other's eyes,For love was never made of mortal dust where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

Across the silent leagues of time and space and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The stars may fade but love remains secure and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

When in your eyes I see the starry deep and found it radiant in thy quiet face,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow I care not if the careless world forgets,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

The music of your voice upon the wind safe from the fury of the surging main,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and love remains when all things pass away.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and fills my being with a sacred warmth,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

If thou remember me when years have flown and warms the winter of the lonely mind,In sweet communion soul with soul converses in harmony that words can never reach.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and finds in thee its everlasting home,The stars may fade but love remains secure and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light where two fond souls unite in holy love.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom remains a beacon of enduring peace,Thy tender grace illuminates my days resides in loving with a selfless heart.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

If thou remember me when years have flown no distance can divide the faithful soul,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat safe from the fury of the surging main,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

The wounded spirit seeks a quiet place are counted by the angels of our grief,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip and folds the traveler in its native calm.

We look before and after in our grief weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,Sorrow is but the shadow cast by love where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

In lonely chambers of the sleepless night and all the sweetness of the spring is fled,A deeper wisdom blossoms out of pain to face the morrow with an upright brow.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,Yet through the darkness shines a patient ray and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame yet shakes the foundations of our earthly pride,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame the wandering footsteps find no resting place,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies and life awakens from the frozen ground.

The cold wind sighs across the barren moor recalls the voice that spoke of ancient peace,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

A bitter wind blows through the naked boughs rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,No noble life was ever free from pain and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,True strength is born amidst the fiery trial and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame remind the soul of joys that could not stay,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep for joy returns with morning's golden light.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross when truth and beauty welcome home the soul.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl yet shakes the foundations of our earthly pride,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards to face the trials of the coming year.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,No noble life was ever free from pain and turns the midnight shadow into day.

A vacant chair beside the dying fire and left our harbor empty in the rain,Pain carves the vessel for celestial grace and fills the spirit with immortal love.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies to guide the mourner to the realms of light.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk the wandering footsteps find no resting place,The deepest sorrow yields the richest grace and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl lies broken on the cold and silent stone,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.