Quotes
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The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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 Longfellow
Anon from the castle walls. The crescent banner falls, And the crowd beholds instead, Like a portent in the sky, Iskander's banner fly, The Black Eagle with double head; And a shout ascends on high, For men's souls are tired of the Turks, And their wicked ways and works, That have made of Ak-Hissar. A city of the plague; And the loud, exultant cry. That echoes wide and far. Is: "Long live Scanderbeg!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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