Hearing often-times; The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power; To chasten and subdue.
Hearing often-times; The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power; To chasten and subdue.
Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
Enough, if something from our hands have power; To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
How many undervalue the power of simplicity But it is the real key to the heart.
The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way.
Visionary power; Attends the motions of the viewless winds, Embodied in the mystery of words.
I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell To which, in silence hushed, his very soul listened intensely for from within were heard Murmurings whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea. Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of faith and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things, Of ebb and flow, and ever enduring power, And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless Agitation.
A power is passing from the earth.
A power is passing from the earth To breathless Nature's dark abyss But when the great and good depart, What is it more than this -That Man who is from God sent forth, Doth yet again to God return.
With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.
I have submitted to a new control; A power is gone, which nothing can restore; A deep distress hath humanised my soul.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories