Maxioms by John Greenleaf Whittier
Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead read more
Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play!
The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as read more
The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts.
Press bravely onward!--not in vain
Your generous trust in human kind;
The good which bloodshed could not read more
Press bravely onward!--not in vain
Your generous trust in human kind;
The good which bloodshed could not gain
Your peaceful zeal shall find.
And close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.
And close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.
