Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.

Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
read more

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
read more

Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
Old fold and young together, and children mingled among them.

Write on your doors the saying wise and old,
"Be bold! be bold!" and everywhere--"Be bold;
Be read more

Write on your doors the saying wise and old,
"Be bold! be bold!" and everywhere--"Be bold;
Be not too bold!" Yet better the excess
That the defect; better the more than less;
Better like Hector in the field to die,
Than like a perfumed Paris turn and fly.

It is Lucifer,
The son of mystery;
And since God suffers him to be,
read more

It is Lucifer,
The son of mystery;
And since God suffers him to be,
He, too, is God's minister,
And labors for some good
By us not understood.