And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs And as silently steal away.
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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- And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs And as silently steal away. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs And as silently steal away. – Henry Wadsworth
- Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget me nots of the angels. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: “Doubtless criticism was originally benignant, pointing out the beauties of a work rather that its defects. The passions of men have made it malignant, as a bad heart of Procrustes turned the bed, the symbol of repose, into an instrument of torture.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Twas Easter Sunday. The full blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Music is the universal language of mankind. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow