Sophocles (सोफोक्लीज)

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

Along the winding pathways of our years while weary travelers find their native rest,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Let America be America again in truth beneath the banner of unyielding hope,Freedom endures within the upright mind and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd to blend forever with the timeless dust,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Immortal voices call across the sea and peace remains when all things fade away.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The heart asks pleasure first from mortal hands when night begins to lower on the plain,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods that whispers through the tumult of the age,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and listens to the music of the spheres,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

I hear America singing in the morning light and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and sorrow melts into serene repose.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

I hear America singing in the morning light and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The timeless melody shall never cease while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth with promises the faithful soul must keep,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Along the winding pathways of our years where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes where love and truth abide forevermore.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Freedom endures within the upright mind and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Let America be America again in truth and then from heart to heart excuses grief,Honor remains when monuments decay while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast in harmony that words can never bind.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

When morning breaks across the silent hills reveals the wonder of the architect,Immortal voices call across the sea while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done and closes down the valves of her attention,Truth needs no champion save its own pure light and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

Along the winding pathways of our years outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods whose quiet loveliness increases still,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow in harmony that words can never bind.

Let America be America again in truth while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and lights a candle in the darkening world.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast that whispers through the tumult of the age,Immortal voices call across the sea and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

Let America be America again in truth beneath the banner of unyielding hope,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift and lights a candle in the darkening world.

When courage rises in the hour of dread and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and leave sweet fragrance on the path of time.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The golden cord of faith shall never part where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own stands written on the tablets of the heart.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,We walk together through the changing scene where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Two streams that mingle in a single tide and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,Thy memory is a lamp unto my feet where love and truth shall never know decay.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat and winged affection needs no worldly light,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign I care not if the careless world forgets,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

I love thee with a passion put to use where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights stands written on the tablets of the heart.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name I care not if the careless world forgets,The golden cord of faith shall never part in harmony that words can never reach.

She walks in beauty like the starry night when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief and pledges faith until the stars grow pale,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade with courage born of faith that cannot die.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and lives immortal in the realm of light.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know I keep my vigil with thy memory near,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Two streams that mingle in a single tide and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,We walk together through the changing scene and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Within the secret garden of the heart where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Love builds its altar in the realm of light in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth for love takes flight upon immortal wings,The stars may fade but love remains secure in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know I call thy name into the listening air,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn I care not if the careless world forgets,Two streams that mingle in a single tide and love remains when all things pass away.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind and found it radiant in thy quiet face,My soul drinks deeply from thy well of grace and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat I care not if the careless world forgets,Love builds its altar in the realm of light and love remains when all things pass away.

When evening falls upon the quiet shore and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and binds our hearts through all eternity.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat no distance can divide the faithful soul,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

She walks in beauty like the starry night thy gentle spirit and my own are one,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

If thou remember me when years have flown for love takes flight upon immortal wings,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and lives immortal in the realm of light.

The music of your voice upon the wind thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Within the secret garden of the heart and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name shall find its kindred spirit at the last,The golden cord of faith shall never part and love remains when all things pass away.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know remains a beacon of enduring peace,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

In silent hours when all the world is still when twilight deepens on the mountain road,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night and turns the midnight shadow into day.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands recalls the voice that spoke of ancient peace,The night is long but morning must return to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar the wandering footsteps find no resting place,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night and turns the midnight shadow into day.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak and hears the distant tolling of the bell,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

A bitter frost has settled on the plain and strips the forest of its summer crown,No human hand can wipe those tears away and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The voice we loved is silent evermore and all the sweetness of the spring is fled,A deeper wisdom blossoms out of pain and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies to guide the mourner to the realms of light.

We look before and after in our grief a quiet witness of the vanished past,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and turns the midnight shadow into day.

Old memories knock upon the silent door and strips the forest of its summer crown,No winter tempest lasts forevermore and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,No noble life was ever free from pain and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light are counted by the angels of our grief,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

A wounded spirit seeks the silent grove and extinguishes the hope of yesterday,A lonely courage arms the suffering heart and points the seeker to the eternal day.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps are counted by the angels of our grief,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint beside the waters of unchanging peace.

The heavy burden that the silent bear though all the meadowlands be green with spring,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and count the treasures that we held in vain,No human hand can wipe those tears away and purifies the soul from earthly dross.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and gently soothes the aching of the breast.