Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating read more
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
Sang in tones of deep emotion
Songs of love and songs of longing.
Sang in tones of deep emotion
Songs of love and songs of longing.
