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.

Resolve and thou art free.

Resolve and thou art free.

Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth read more

Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.

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.

Tell your master that if there were as many devils at Worms as
tiles on its roofs, I would read more

Tell your master that if there were as many devils at Worms as
tiles on its roofs, I would enter.