The Day is Done (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From ...
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From ...
"Speak! speak I thou fearful guest Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! ...
Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; ...
Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!— For the soul is dead that slumbers, And ...
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