Quotes about billows (16 Quotes)


    I was tossed on a buoyant but unquiet sea, where billows of trouble rolled under surges of joy. I thought sometimes I saw beyond its wild waters a shore, sweet as the hills of Beulah; and now and then a freshening gale, wakened my hope, bore my spirit, triumphantly towards the bourne: but I could not reach it, even in fancy,--a counteracting breeze blew off land, and continually drove me back. Sense would resist delirium; judgment would warn passion

    The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright - And this was very odd, because it was The middle of the night

    When winds are raging oer the upper ocean And billows wild contend with angry roar, T is said, far down beneath the wild commotion That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth And silver waves chime ever peacefully, And no rude storm, how fierce soeer it flyeth Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.





    Men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty billows of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, and pass themselves by.




    On a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billows Assail the stern rock, and the loud tempests rave, The hero lies still, while the dew-drooping willows, Like fond weeping mourners, lean over his grave. The lightnings may flash and the loud thunders rattle He heeds not, he hears not, he 's free from all pain He sleeps his last sleep, he has fought his last battle No sound can awake him to glory again.

    The Spirit of the Eternal shot out of his Body like a sheet of lightning that radiated at once on the billows of the Seven millions of skies, and my ten splendors were his limbs.

    Forced from home, and all its pleasures, afric coast I left forlorn to increase a stranger's treasures, o the raging billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me, paid my price in paltry gold but, though theirs they have enroll'd me, minds are never to be sold.

    Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

    I know my own soul, how feeble and puny it is: I know the magnitude of this ministry, and the great difficulty of the work; for more stormy billows vex the soul of the priest than the gales which disturb the sea.




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