Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
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Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert read more
Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
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I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
For thine own purpose, thou hast sent
The strife and the discouragement!
For thine own purpose, thou hast sent
The strife and the discouragement!
