Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
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I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.

Though he was rough, he was kindly.

Though he was rough, he was kindly.

And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.

And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.

The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.

The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.

The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings read more

The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.