Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
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I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.

It is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

It is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.

Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.

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.

Even cities have their graves!

Even cities have their graves!