The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and enter straight
Another golden chamber of the king's
Larger than this we leave, and lovelier.
And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect,
The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves.
The will of God is all in all. He makes,
Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.
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Death hath so many doors to let out life.
Death hath so many doors to let out life.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
The "kingdom of Heaven" is a condition of the heart - not something that comes "upon the earth" or "after read more
The "kingdom of Heaven" is a condition of the heart - not something that comes "upon the earth" or "after death."
He that lives to forever, never fears dying.
He that lives to forever, never fears dying.
You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes read more
You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,or you can be full of the love you shared.You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.You can remember her only that she is gone,or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back.Or you can do what she'd want:smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
God is becoming bitter, he envies man his mortality.
God is becoming bitter, he envies man his mortality.
If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?
If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?
I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.
I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.
He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I read more
He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I know
Pale and white and cold as snow;
And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"
Weeping at the feet and head.
I can see your falling tears,
I can hear your sighs and prayers;
Yet I smile and whisper this:
I am not the thing you kiss.
Cease your tears and let it lie;
It was mine--it is not I.
