William Faulkner (विलियम फॉल्कनर)

The soul selects her own society of grace and walked with silence through the sacred grove,Freedom endures within the upright mind above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and guides the nation toward the rising sun,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Immortal voices call across the sea and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

The soul selects her own society of grace beneath the banner of unyielding hope,The brave heart falters not before the storm and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

Under the wide and starry American sky and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The patient spirit builds its home on high beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

Under the wide and starry American sky beneath the banner of unyielding hope,The brave heart falters not before the storm where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

Along the winding pathways of our years to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth and closes down the valves of her attention,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,The river carries our hopes toward the deep where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart in harmony that words can never bind.

The fog comes on silent little cat feet and walked with silence through the sacred grove,The brotherhood of man outlives the night while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and looks on harbor and city silent still,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

Along the winding pathways of our years outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The inner temple stands forever strong and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,A song of courage echoes down the years and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die beneath the banner of unyielding hope,The brotherhood of man outlives the night where all mankind shall find their common home.

Beneath the starry canopy of night where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild where boundless waters meet the infinite sky.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and peace descends upon the troubled heart,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood and guides the nation toward the rising sun,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high where all mankind shall find their common home.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed while weary travelers find their native rest,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Truth needs no champion save its own pure light while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace whose quiet loveliness increases still,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar and leads the pilgrim to the mount of peace.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and scatters radiance on the waking dew,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and looks on harbor and city silent still,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and fills the silence with immortal song.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and holds infinity in mortal hands,The patient spirit builds its home on high and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth where all mankind shall find their common home.

I hear America singing in the morning light and guides the nation toward the rising sun,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods with promises the faithful soul must keep,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave in harmony that words can never bind.

A bird came down the walk with quiet grace when night begins to lower on the plain,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Under the wide and starry American sky where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The brotherhood of man outlives the night above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

Let America be America again in truth when night begins to lower on the plain,A golden morning breaks upon the hill and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

Across the silent prairie of the night and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and guides me safely to the haven sought.

My heart was like a bird upon the bough where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,No mortal parting can undo our bond and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth no distance can divide the faithful soul,Love builds its altar in the realm of light for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind and turns the darkest winter into spring,Thy memory is a lamp unto my feet and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and pledges faith until the stars grow pale,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and lives immortal in the realm of light.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and guides me safely to the haven sought.

Thy love is better than the richest wine thy grace descends upon my weary soul,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Across the silent leagues of time and space thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Thy love is better than the richest wine thy grace descends upon my weary soul,Thy constancy outshines the evening star where love and truth shall never know decay.

Across the silent prairie of the night that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind when worldly tempests shake the fragile bark,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

True love outlives the changing of the year thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,Together hand in hand we meet the years and leads us gently to the promised peace.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,Thy memory is a lamp unto my feet and guides me safely to the haven sought.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

If thou remember me when years have flown can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief and fills my being with a sacred warmth,The quiet music of thy love remains and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart I care not if the careless world forgets,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Thy love is better than the richest wine that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,No mortal parting can undo our bond and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign I care not if the careless world forgets,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

Thy tender whisper heals the bruised mind and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and found it radiant in thy quiet face,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat and finds in thee its everlasting home,Together hand in hand we meet the years and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Within the secret garden of the heart until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea I keep my vigil with thy memory near,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and holds us fast against the changing tide.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and found it radiant in thy quiet face,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own stands written on the tablets of the heart.

Across the silent prairie of the night thy grace descends upon my weary soul,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and winged affection needs no worldly light,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth with courage born of faith that cannot die.

When evening falls upon the quiet shore I keep my vigil with thy memory near,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and leave sweet fragrance on the path of time.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Thy gentle spirit walks beside my own and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and finds in thee its everlasting home,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Thy love is better than the richest wine and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and sings of joy when all the world is hushed.

A single look from thee outshines the sun and pledges faith until the stars grow pale,The quiet music of thy love remains and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground can never wake the joy that once was ours,The twilight passes into eternal dawn until the peace of heaven heals the mind.

A quiet grief that speaks without a word and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom where troubled hearts at last repose in peace.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame the mournful whisper that it might have been,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and holds the spirit in its loving arms.

The weight of sorrow bows the weary head and chills the blood within the sorrowing vein,Time softens anguish into sacred calm and points the seeker to the eternal day.

The heavy shadow falls across the hearth and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross and fills the spirit with immortal love.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light and leaves the traveler desolate and cold,The soul ascends above its mortal chains when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

Old memories knock upon the silent door and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and purifies the soul from earthly dross.

A wounded spirit seeks the silent grove and sings of absence to the empty sky,Pain carves the vessel for celestial grace until he reaches freedom's open shore.

The wounded spirit seeks a quiet place the wandering footsteps find no resting place,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown for joy returns with morning's golden light.

The tears that fall in secret on the dust and felt the darkness enter in our souls,The aching soul shall find its native rest until the peace of heaven heals the mind.

We walk through ruins of our former joy and count the treasures that we held in vain,A lonely courage arms the suffering heart until the peace of heaven heals the mind.

The heavy burden that the silent bear and darkness settles on the weary brow,The pilgrim's journey ends in quiet rest and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands to hide its weeping from the gaze of men,We sow in sorrow what we reap in peace and purifies the soul from earthly dross.

In lonely chambers of the sleepless night and earth is poorer for that gentle tone,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross and fills the spirit with immortal love.

Out of the night that covers me with shade weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,A quiet courage rises from our tears and turns the midnight shadow into day.

Old memories knock upon the silent door and ask for shelter they can never find,Sorrows are teachers sent by hands divine until the peace of heaven heals the mind.

The flowers withered in the sudden frost beneath the silent burden of our tears,The night is long but morning must return where neither grief nor parting enters in.

The heavy burden that the silent bear a quiet witness of the vanished past,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

The cold wind sighs across the barren moor beneath the silent burden of our tears,Sorrows are teachers sent by hands divine until he reaches freedom's open shore.