Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Kind messages, that pass from land to land;
Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,
In read more
Kind messages, that pass from land to land;
Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,
In which we feel the pressure of a hand,--
One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!
Even the blackest of them all, the crow,
Renders good service as your man-at-arms,
Crushing the beetle read more
Even the blackest of them all, the crow,
Renders good service as your man-at-arms,
Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail,
And crying havoc on the slug and snail.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep read more
So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep from mine eyes away;
I will go down to the chapel and pray.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.
Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.
