Sinclair Lewis (सिंक्लेयर लुईस)

A bird came down the walk with quiet grace and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth to blend forever with the timeless dust,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and listens to the music of the spheres,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

The soul selects her own society of grace and walked with silence through the sacred grove,A song of courage echoes down the years where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done and closes down the valves of her attention,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night in harmony that words can never bind.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Under the wide and starry American sky and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well with promises the faithful soul must keep,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth where all mankind shall find their common home.

Beneath the starry canopy of night while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and peace remains when all things fade away.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die with promises the faithful soul must keep,A song of courage echoes down the years and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die 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.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,Virtue endures when earthly empires fall and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king to guide our children on the righteous path.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies where love and truth abide forevermore.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The brave heart falters not before the storm where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

I hear America singing in the morning light where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and looks on harbor and city silent still,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,A deeper truth awakens in the mind in harmony that words can never bind.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Along the winding pathways of our years and charts the courses of eternal stars,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul with promises the faithful soul must keep,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

I hear America singing in the morning light and walked with silence through the sacred grove,Honor remains when monuments decay and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,A golden morning breaks upon the hill while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

I hear America singing in the morning light and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,The golden harvest waits for honest hands to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

Under the wide and starry American sky while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,Freedom endures within the upright mind and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea while weary travelers find their native rest,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Let America be America again in truth and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and sorrow melts into serene repose.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Freedom endures within the upright mind and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all to blend forever with the timeless dust,The prairie wind carries the ancient name where all mankind shall find their common home.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and guides me safely to the haven sought.

A single look from thee outshines the sun and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

Within the secret garden of the heart until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and fills my being with a sacred warmth,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth thy sacred image dwells forevermore,The purest joy that mortal life can yield in harmony that words can never reach.

My heart was like a bird upon the bough burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,Forever anchored in the port of grace flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

My heart was like a bird upon the bough and pledges faith until the stars grow pale,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

True love outlives the changing of the year and winged affection needs no worldly light,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and love remains when all things pass away.

Within the secret garden of the heart burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and finds in thee its everlasting home,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Within the secret garden of the heart and pledges faith until the stars grow pale,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

Across the silent leagues of time and space burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind and turns the darkest winter into spring,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

Thy love is better than the richest wine whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,No mortal parting can undo our bond and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom thy grace descends upon my weary soul,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

Thy love is better than the richest wine and turns the darkest winter into spring,My soul drinks deeply from thy well of grace and guides me safely to the haven sought.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour I care not if the careless world forgets,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Forever in thy presence I abide stands written on the tablets of the heart.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun I care not if the careless world forgets,The stars may fade but love remains secure and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

Across the silent prairie of the night when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and leads the voyager safely to the shore.

No wall of stone can keep true love away thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Our spirits blend in everlasting song where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart I care not if the careless world forgets,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

I love thee with a passion put to use whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Our spirits blend in everlasting song until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea I call thy name into the listening air,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

A single look from thee outshines the sun and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Forever in thy presence I abide and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart no distance can divide the faithful soul,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

The flowers withered in the sudden frost and left our harbor empty in the rain,The quiet grave receives our weary dust until the peace of heaven heals the mind.

The voice we loved is silent evermore and left our harbor empty in the rain,A lonely courage arms the suffering heart to face the morrow with an upright brow.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye to face the trials of the coming year.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands and sings of absence to the empty sky,The quiet grave receives our weary dust and hallows every memory of our loss.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head where sorrow sits in solemn company,The patient pilgrim walks through shadowland to face the morrow with an upright brow.

When cherished dreams dissolve like morning mist weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell for joy returns with morning's golden light.

A vacant chair beside the dying fire and all the sweetness of the spring is fled,The night is long but morning must return where every tear is wiped away for aye.

A vacant chair beside the dying fire as shadows lengthen on the lonely wall,No human hand can wipe those tears away when truth and beauty welcome home the soul.

Out of the night that covers me with shade our fleeting pleasures vanish one by one,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief until the pilgrim reaches native ground.

The lamp flickers low within the room and all the sweetness of the spring is fled,A lonely courage arms the suffering heart and hallows every memory of our loss.

Old memories knock upon the silent door and count the treasures that we held in vain,The twilight passes into eternal dawn and find in solitude its quiet strength.

We look before and after in our grief the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,Sorrow is but the shadow cast by love until the pilgrim reaches native ground.

Old memories knock upon the silent door and felt the darkness enter in our souls,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and fills the spirit with immortal love.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,A deeper wisdom blossoms out of pain to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

Old memories knock upon the silent door recalls the voice that spoke of ancient peace,The quiet grave receives our weary dust and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

The cold wind sighs across the barren moor and strips the forest of its summer crown,Sorrows are teachers sent by hands divine to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

The heavy burden that the silent bear and every footstep whispers of decay,Love remains constant when all else has fled and life awakens from the frozen ground.

The voice we loved is silent evermore and left our harbor empty in the rain,The wounded heart must learn to bleed alone and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.