Maxioms by 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.
A boy's will is the wind's will.
A boy's will is the wind's will.
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
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Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
Heart within and God o'erhead.
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when read more
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
A region of repose it seems,
A place of slumber and of dreams.
A region of repose it seems,
A place of slumber and of dreams.
