Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!
Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!
Nature is a revelation of God; Art is a revelation of man
Nature is a revelation of God; Art is a revelation of man
White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, read more
White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,
As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, read more
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings read more
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.
