Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy read more

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.

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.

It is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

It is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

Man-like it is to fall into sin; fiendlike it is to dwell therein.

Man-like it is to fall into sin; fiendlike it is to dwell therein.

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.