Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.

The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.

He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
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He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
And banner waves, and trumpet sounds,
And ladies ride with hawk on wrist,
And mighty warriors sweep along,
Magnified by the purple mist,
The dusk of centuries and of song.

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.

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with read more

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with the rest."
And I make answer: "I am satisfied;
I dare not ask; I know not what is best;
God hath already said what shall betide."

Enjoy the spring of love and youth,
To some good angel leave the rest,
For time will read more

Enjoy the spring of love and youth,
To some good angel leave the rest,
For time will teach thee soon the truth,
"There are no birds in last year's nest."