Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The pen became a clarion.
The pen became a clarion.
There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, read more
There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, great or small,
And help to build the wooden wall!
Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.
Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the read more
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from
Sinai.
Being all fashioned of the self-same dust,
Let us be merciful as well as just.
Being all fashioned of the self-same dust,
Let us be merciful as well as just.
