Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries read more

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;--
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that our of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!

Hospitality sitting with gladness.

Hospitality sitting with gladness.

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
. . . .
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The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
. . . .
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Sometimes we may learn more from a man's error than from his
virtues.

Sometimes we may learn more from a man's error than from his
virtues.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.