Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.

Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.

Ah, to build, to build!
That is the noblest of all the arts.

Ah, to build, to build!
That is the noblest of all the arts.

For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts read more

For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts of young and old.

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.

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.