Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

That beautiful season
. . . the Summer of All-Saints!
Filled was the air with a dreamy read more

That beautiful season
. . . the Summer of All-Saints!
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the
landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

An angel with a trumpet said,
"Forever more, forever more,
The reign of violence is o'er!"

An angel with a trumpet said,
"Forever more, forever more,
The reign of violence is o'er!"

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries read more

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;--
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that our of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!

The star of the unconquered will,
He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
read more

The star of the unconquered will,
He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.

Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.

Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.