Quotes from laighton albert

Oh! think not that my eyes are dry, Because you mark no falling tears: There flows a river deep and dark, Whose waters ebb not with the years.

O that all human hearts might join the strain; Then Hate, and Bigotry, and Sin would die; Then Peace would reign and wear its olive crown, And War with blood-stained feet no longer track Earth's fair domain, or wave its crimson flag. Then Pride would lay its flaunting mantle by; The cry of Hunger cease--the oppressor's rod Would scourge no more, but man be linked to man In one unbroken chain of brotherhood.

Day's weary toil is o'er; No worldly strife my heartfelt worship mars: Beneath the mystery of the silent stars, I tremble and adore.

O prophet flowers! with lips of bloom, Surpassing, in their beauty, The pearly tints of ocean shells-- Ye teach me faith and duty.

The grandeur of each mountain peak That rears to heaven its granite form; The craggy cliffs where eagles shriek Amid the thunder and the storm.

Now winds are wild, and sere leaves fall; A dying glory mantles all; I sit and watch the tears of rain Steal slowly down the window-pane. The wailing of the Autumn blast Stirs many a dead leaf of the Past Within my soul; I seem to hear The wan lips of the dying year, Mournfully, oh, mournfully, Chant a low, sad melody!

How many varied scenes this world displays To fill the heart with joy, the lips with praise! Go where we may and Beauty follows too, With radiant smiles, and shapes forever new.

Night watches calmly with her starry eyes All tremulous with love.

Where man sees but withered leaves, God sees the fair flowers growing.

The angel Beauty walks her radiant way: O, follow her! She never leads astray.

And if with prayer and praise they heart is filled, Its fever cooled, its stormy passions stilled, If thou dost catch faint glimpses of that shore Where sorrow dies, and parting is no more, And thou canst almost solve death's mystery, O, then, God's handmaid, Beauty, dwells with thee!

My tears fall inward on my heart, And, dew-like, keep its memories green: Sad strains, unheard by other ears, Break forth for me from lips unseen.

I cannot tell you if the dead, Who loved us fondly when on earth, Walk by our side, sit at our hearth, By ties of old affection led.... But this I know--in many dreams They come to us from realms afar, And leave the golden gates ajar Through which immortal glory streams.

All human love is a faint type of God's; An echoing note from a harmonious whole; A feeble spark from an undying flame; A single drop from an unfathomed sea: But God's is infinite; it fills the earth And heaven, and the broad, trackless realms of space.