Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( 10 of 238 )
Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,
And through the opening door that time unlocks
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Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,
And through the opening door that time unlocks
Feel the fresh breathing of To-morrow creep.
They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]
They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he read more
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he call'd the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars that on earth's firmament do shine.
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, read more
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of
song, born under green read more
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of
song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths
of literature,--in the genial Summertime.
Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.
Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.
Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us footprints on read more
Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us footprints on the sands of time.
And the fireflies, Wah-wah-taysee,
Waved their torches to mislead him.
And the fireflies, Wah-wah-taysee,
Waved their torches to mislead him.
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is read more
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
