Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we read more

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame.

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so read more

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of read more

The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of sea-birds
Flash the white caps of the sea.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is read more

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
read more

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
Phantoms that seem to live.