Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
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The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
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I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so read more
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!
