Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is read more

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but
the silence of our friends.

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the read more

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we read more

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame.