Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
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Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the read more

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from
Sinai.

Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.

Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels.

What else remains for me?
Youth, hope and love;
To build a new life on a ruined read more

What else remains for me?
Youth, hope and love;
To build a new life on a ruined life.

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.