A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowIf we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowThis is the place. Stand still, my steed,- Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy past The forms that once have been.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHow wonderful is the human voice! It is indeed the organ of the soul. The intellect of man is enthroned visibly on his forehead and in his eye, and the heart of man is written on his countenance, but the soul, the soul reveals itself in the voice only.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow