Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
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Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies
Alone are the interpreters of thought?
Whose household words are songs in many keys,
Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught!
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the read more

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from
Sinai.

The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.

The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.

My Book and Heart
Shall never part.

My Book and Heart
Shall never part.

The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in read more

The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service