Ebb, ocean of life, (the flow will return,) Cease not your moaning you fierce old mother,...
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There is a great solitude about such a shore. The woods are never solitary- they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mystery- we may only wander, awed and spell-bound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has one only- a mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music. The woods are human, but the sea is of the company of the archangels.
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Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning. I was much too far out all my life, And not waving but drowning.
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Romans 8:22:
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
(NIV)
We know that the whole creation [of irrational creatures] has been moaning together in the pains of labor until now. [Jer. 12:4, 11.](AMP)
For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.
(KJV)
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Some people just don't seem to realize, when they're moaning about not getting prayers answered, that no is the answer.
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