The days are 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,
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still clings to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
“It’s folly to pretend that one wholly recovers from a disappointed passion
Such wonders always leave a scar
There are faces I can never look upon without emotion;
There are names I can never hear spoken
Without almost starting to cry.”
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
