Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]

They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

Look not mournfully into the Past; it comes not back again.
Wisely improve the Present; it is thine.
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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.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the read more

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.