Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings read more
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating read more
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, read more
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, thou soundest solemnly,
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!
Music is the universal language of mankind.
Music is the universal language of mankind.
