Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the
surface
Is as the tossing buoy, read more

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the
surface
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden.

For there are moments in life, when the heart is so full of
emotion,
That if by chance read more

For there are moments in life, when the heart is so full of
emotion,
That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble,
Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret,
Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.

Well has the name of Pontifex been given
Unto the Church's head, as the chief builder
And read more

Well has the name of Pontifex been given
Unto the Church's head, as the chief builder
And architect of the invisible bridge
That leads from earth to heaven.

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

The world loves a spice of wickedness.

The world loves a spice of wickedness.