Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's error than from his
virtues.
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's error than from his
virtues.
Listen, every one
That listen may, unto a tale
That's merrier than the nightingale.
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Listen, every one
That listen may, unto a tale
That's merrier than the nightingale.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn (pt. III,),
Sculpture is more divine, and more like Nature,
That fashions all her works in high relief,
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Sculpture is more divine, and more like Nature,
That fashions all her works in high relief,
And that is Sculpture. This vast ball, the Earth,
Was moulded out of clay, and baked in fire;
Men, women, and all animals that breathe
Are statues, and not paintings.
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!
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.
