Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, well has it been said, that there is no grief like the grief
which does not speak!
Oh, well has it been said, that there is no grief like the grief
which does not speak!
The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
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The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
Are the days that she brings,
With her dusky wings,
And her bosom snowy white!
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
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.
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in read more
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service
