Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Now to rivulets from the mountains Point the rods of fortune-tellers; Youth — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When a great man dies, for years the light he leaves behind him, lies on the paths of men. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Truths that startled the generation in which they were first announced become — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! O drooping souls, whose destinies Are — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow