Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was read more
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.
The picture that approaches sculpture nearest
Is the best picture.
The picture that approaches sculpture nearest
Is the best picture.
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and read more
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
