Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted read more

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Towards the reef of Norman's Woe.

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, read more

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,
As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!

For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts read more

For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts of young and old.

Will without power is like children playing at soldiers.
- quoted by Thomas Babington Macaulay, The Rovers read more

Will without power is like children playing at soldiers.
- quoted by Thomas Babington Macaulay, The Rovers (act IV),

I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of
song, born under green read more

I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of
song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths
of literature,--in the genial Summertime.