Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( 8 of 238 )
Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.
Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day!
The frontier town and citadel of night!
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day!
The frontier town and citadel of night!
Then from the neighboring thicket the mockingbird, wildest of
singers,
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung read more
Then from the neighboring thicket the mockingbird, wildest of
singers,
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water.
Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music,
That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to
listen.
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, read more
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, thou soundest solemnly,
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
. . . .
read more
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
. . . .
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Kind messages, that pass from land to land;
Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,
In read more
Kind messages, that pass from land to land;
Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,
In which we feel the pressure of a hand,--
One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!
He the sweetest of all singers.
He the sweetest of all singers.
Resolve, and thou art free.
Resolve, and thou art free.
