Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.

Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant read more

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.

For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.

After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And read more

After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And touching all the darksome woods with light,
Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing,
Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring,
Drops down into the night.