Placeholder: My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love. My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.

@generalpha

Prompt

My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.

large hands

2 years ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

Luna Diffusion

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

608 × 912

Similar

My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
programming
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
streetlight effect, light projection just below
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
it is not there
3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286208998628034825342117067982148086513282306647093844609550582231725359408128481117450284102701938521105559644622948954930381964428810975665933446128475648233786783165271201909145648566923460348610454326648213393607260249141273724587006606315588174881520920962829254091715364367892590360011330530548820466521384146951941511609433057270365759591953092186117381932611793105118548074462379962749567351885752724891227938183011949
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
You had no?
We needed more oxygen.
No clouds in my stones Let it rain, I hydroplane in the bank Comin' down like Dow Jones When the clouds come, we gone We Roc-A-Fella We fly higher than weather

© 2025 Stablecog, Inc.