Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,-- The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowSo Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowThe setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow