Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the read more
See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the snowy peaks!
Romance is the poetry of literature.
Romance is the poetry of literature.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that read more
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that rare happiness, which even on earth
Heaven gives to those it loves.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
