A Quote by Bryan Procter
Touch us gently, Time!
Let us glide adown thy stream
Gently,-as we sometimes glide
Through a quiet dream!
Related Quotes
Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!
Gently - so have good men taught -
Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide
Into the new; the eternal flow of things,
Like a bright river of the fields of heaven,
Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
Onward and sublime
Will ever glide
The silent stream of Time,
That bears us on its tide.
... Providence conducts us with so much kindness through the different periods of our life, that we scarcely feel the change; our days glide gently and imperceptibly along, like the motion of the hour-hand, which we cannot discover. ... we advance gradually; we are the same to-day as yesterday, and to-morrow as to-day: thus we go on, without perceiving it, which is a miracle of the Providence I adore.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise.
In the stormy current of life characters are weights or floats which at one time make us glide along the bottom, and at another maintain us on the surface.
Last night
I begged the Wise One to tell me
the secret of the world.
Gently, gently, he whispered,
"Be quiet,
the secret cannot be spoken,
It is wrapped in silence."
Ere thou sleepest, gently lay Every troubled thought away; Put off worry and distress As thou puttest off thy dress; Drop thy burden and thy care In the quiet arms of prayer. Lord thou knowest how I live, All I'VE DONE AMISS FORGIVE; ALL OF GOOD I'VE TRIED TO DO STRENGTHEN, bless and carry through; All I love in safety keep While in Thee I fall asleep.
Time deals gently only with those who take it gently.
The flood of time is rolling on;
We stand upon its brink, whilst they are gone
To glide in peace down death's mysterious stream.
Have ye done well?
Rivers flow not past, but through us; tingling, vibrating, exciting every cell and fiber in our bodies, making them sing and glide.
Imperceptibly the hours glide on, and beguile us as they pass.
Let us not glide through this world and then slip quietly into heaven, without having blown the trumpet loud and long for our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Let us see to it that the devil will hold a thanksgiving service in hell, when he gets the news of our departure from the field of battle.
God breathes through us so completely... so gently we hardly feel it... yet, it is our everything.
God breathes through us so completely...So gently we hardly feel it...yet it is our everything.
Writers dream of sentences that sail through the waters of thought. We try to control their shape and size, and we struggle to let them glide, rather than thrash at sea.
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