Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning,--an
endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea read more

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning,--an
endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the
distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly
bodies.

The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
read more

The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
Are the days that she brings,
With her dusky wings,
And her bosom snowy white!

Though he was rough, he was kindly.

Though he was rough, he was kindly.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

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!