Were a star quenched on high,For ages would its light,Still travelling downward from the sky,Shine on our mortal sight. So when a great man dies,For years beyond our ken,The light he leaves behind him liesUpon the paths of men.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowLike black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowWho ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowSee yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks!
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowThe little I have seen of the world teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. When I take the history of one poor heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to myself the struggles and temptations it has passed through, the brief pulsations of joy, the feverish inquietude of hope and fear, the pressure of want, the desertion of friends, I would fain leave the erring soul of my fellow-man with Him from whose hand it came.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow