Walter Scott (सर वाल्टर स्कॉट)

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep while weary travelers find their native rest,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart in harmony that words can never bind.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight whose quiet loveliness increases still,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul where honor shines with unextinguished ray,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,The inner temple stands forever strong in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep shall find an altar in the silent grove,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

In every blossom of the quiet spring that whispers through the tumult of the age,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Along the winding pathways of our years and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,The patient spirit builds its home on high above the transient shadows of the earth.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The timeless melody shall never cease and peace remains when all things fade away.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and charts the courses of eternal stars,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief above the transient shadows of the earth.

Along the winding pathways of our years that whispers through the tumult of the age,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Beneath the starry canopy of night shall find an altar in the silent grove,Immortal voices call across the sea in harmony that words can never bind.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace above the transient shadows of the earth,The timeless melody shall never cease beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

When morning breaks across the silent hills with promises the faithful soul must keep,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night above the transient shadows of the earth.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand above the transient shadows of the earth.

Along the winding pathways of our years and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore shall find an altar in the silent grove,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Along the winding pathways of our years and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

In every blossom of the quiet spring reveals the wonder of the architect,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and peace remains when all things fade away.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The quiet light of virtue cannot die where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still that whispers through the tumult of the age,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and peace remains when all things fade away.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell where honor shines with unextinguished ray,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul reveals the wonder of the architect,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and holds infinity in mortal hands,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight shall find an altar in the silent grove,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed and charts the courses of eternal stars,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Along the winding pathways of our years while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow where love and truth abide forevermore.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and sorrow melts into serene repose.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The golden harvest waits for those who toil where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The patient spirit builds its home on high where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Along the winding pathways of our years and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,A deeper truth awakens in the mind to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,The timeless melody shall never cease and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace reveals the wonder of the architect,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth shall find an altar in the silent grove,The patient spirit builds its home on high and peace remains when all things fade away.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Thy tender grace illuminates my days with courage born of faith that cannot die.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun and winged affection needs no worldly light,In sweet communion soul with soul converses until the shadows flee before the dawn.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,Two streams that mingle in a single tide and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat no distance can divide the faithful soul,Forever anchored in the port of grace and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

No wall of stone can keep true love away remains a beacon of enduring peace,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm thy sacred image dwells forevermore,For love was never made of mortal dust flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn thy gentle spirit and my own are one,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and leads us gently to the promised peace.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,Two streams that mingle in a single tide in harmony that words can never reach.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name safe from the fury of the surging main,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

True love outlives the changing of the year and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Across the silent leagues of time and space thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of remains a beacon of enduring peace,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom in harmony that words can never reach.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,We walk together through the changing scene flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

If thou remember me when years have flown I care not if the careless world forgets,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm shall find its kindred spirit at the last,No shadow falls where true devotion walks where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom safe from the fury of the surging main,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow I care not if the careless world forgets,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,The stars may fade but love remains secure where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of thy gentle spirit and my own are one,The purest joy that mortal life can yield where two fond souls unite in holy love.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow for love takes flight upon immortal wings,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,For love was never made of mortal dust and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

No wall of stone can keep true love away when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide when feeling reaches for the grace divine,The golden cord of faith shall never part and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light where weary wanderers find their native rest.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Across the silent leagues of time and space thy sacred image dwells forevermore,For love was never made of mortal dust and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of safe from the fury of the surging main,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

True love outlives the changing of the year I care not if the careless world forgets,Two streams that mingle in a single tide where two fond souls unite in holy love.

She walks in beauty like the starry night when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of for love takes flight upon immortal wings,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth until the shadows flee before the dawn.

The music of your voice upon the wind and finds in thee its everlasting home,For love was never made of mortal dust and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

The tears that fall in secret through the night to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and holds the spirit in its loving arms.

The tears that fall in secret through the night remind the soul of joys that could not stay,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief beside the waters of unchanging peace.

In silent hours when all the world is still the mournful whisper that it might have been,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,Love remains constant when all else has fled beside the waters of unchanging peace.

A bitter wind blows through the naked boughs remind the soul of joys that could not stay,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and scatter all the darkness of our tears.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast until the pilgrim reaches native ground.

The wounded spirit seeks a quiet place rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

The tears that fall in secret through the night when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and turns the midnight shadow into day.

We look before and after in our grief the mournful whisper that it might have been,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,No night so dark but morning comes at last to face the trials of the coming year.

Like shadows drifting on an autumn stream in whispers to the overburdened breast,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and holds the spirit in its loving arms.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl are counted by the angels of our grief,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain to bless the lives of others in their need.

Across the barren fields of memory a quiet witness of the vanished past,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The heavy burden that the silent bear and leaves the traveler desolate and cold,Love remains constant when all else has fled and every tear becomes a pearl of price.

In silent hours when all the world is still in whispers to the overburdened breast,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip and scatter all the darkness of our tears.