Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when read more
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
The Rhine! the Rhine! a blessing on the Rhine!
The Rhine! the Rhine! a blessing on the Rhine!
The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the read more
The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.
The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.
The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.
