Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him read more

So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.

The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal.

The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And out hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled read more

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And out hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

I should think your tongue has broken its chain.

I should think your tongue has broken its chain.

This is the forest primeval.

This is the forest primeval.