Best 13 quotes of Timothy Salter on MyQuotes

Arise my soul, arise to lighter ways, So cast aside dark shadows haunting thee; O view the orbs and spheres of brighter days, Lost fragments fraught with broken ecstasy.

Sonnet III: Black Coffin opened wide for all to See Black Coffin opened wide for all to See, The lifeless form of one I loved so dear. O, listen! mournful knells that soon shall be All night long tolling for the folk to hear. The lanterns overlight the old churchyard To watch the coffin lowered into the ground; Soon Frost shall grasp the turf already hard, Decay ye have to face without a sound. But years have pass'd herein do I relate My dear sweet mother's form within my mind. Still happiness fills all my heart and state, As I see my small family so kind. Love cannot be withheld by death or grave, It stays alive within the heart so brave.

Sonnet XII: There is a Meetinghouse across the wold There is a Meetinghouse across the wold Near shaded churchyard where pine breezes sigh; Such sacred mem'ries gently here unfold Of rustic folk whom 'neath the yew trees lie. Engraved on stones now crum'ling in the earth, Of souls asleep for o'er a hundred years, Foretell unceasing cycles—Death and Birth That yew tree nods and weeps her unseen tears. But God shall guide us through the gloom of night Victorious over grim reaper's blade, As yet we grasp to see eternal light Amidst life's fickle joys which here do fade. Victims of Death by lusty scythe bannish'd Triumphant wake to find nightmares vanish'd! 13 February, 2013

Come gaze about aged churchyard and behold Those vanish'd hours of lead and hours of gold.

Ere long this golden light shall pass and fade Except all cherish'd mem'ries ye have made.

Disperse the sorrow of my sadden'd mind O Lord, help me some blessed peace to find!

Mountains clothed in snow Robed in white against blue skies Mirrored in the lake.

O God bid my poor body to arise On that bright day triumphant through the skies!

O May my Song arise like Morning day, And bid me look upon the break of light.

O Weep No More For Me When I Am Gone!

The seasons bring to life the living lyre

To them, eternal life begins And God Himself shall wipe away all tears.

Yet this thou art alive, but if ye soar, My poor frail heart will have beat out its cry And sadly miss thy sweet form all the more While helplessly I stand and watch you die.