Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak read more
A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak not. They are books in which not
a line is written, save perhaps a date.
The world loves a spice of wickedness.
The world loves a spice of wickedness.
In the thickets and the meadows
Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa.
On the summit of the lodges
read more
In the thickets and the meadows
Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa.
On the summit of the lodges
Sang the robin, the Opechee.
Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy read more
Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
