It`s not given us to foretell..., by Frank Jude It's not given us to foretell /
how our words will echo through the ages, /
but sympathy is given us /
as grace is given us.
The echo of the word we place..., by Evgenia Sarkisyants The echo of the word we place /
Escapes our best anticipation, /
And we receive appreciation /
As we receive the blessed Grace.
We can not divine, by Vyacheslav Chistyakov We cannot know further ways /
Of our word — how it’ll be drifted, — /
Compassion from above is gifted /
As we are given sacred grace.
We cannot guess the way of word..., by Lyudmila Purgina We cannot guess the way of word /
In real world, how it'll return, /
But we are sympathized a lot, /
A lot we gain the grace of God.
We never know what will be..., by S. Kutateladze We never know what will be /
With words we utter solemnly: /
Obey compassion to entrust /
The holy gift directing us...