Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.

Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and Clashing, clanging to the pavement Hurl them from their windy tower!

These bells have been anointed, And baptized with holy water!

He heard the convent bell, Suddenly in the silence ringing For the service of noonday.

The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer.

Bell, thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell, thou soundest solemnly, When, on Sabbath morning, Fields deserted lie!

It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws; And this shall make, in every Christian clime, The bell of Atri famous for all time. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys, Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

In the thickets and the meadows Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa. On the summit of the lodges Sang the robin, the Opechee.

A solid man of Boston; A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas.

There's a brave fellow! There's a man of pluck! A man who's not afraid to say his say, Though a whole town's against him.

See, how the stream has overflowed Its banks, and o'er the meadow road Is spreading far and wide!

The music of the brook silenced all conversation.

Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.

Shepherds at the grange, Where the Babe was born, Sang with many a change, Christmas carols until morn.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Hail to the King of Bethlehem, Who weareth in his diadem The yellow crocus for the gem Of his authority!

Well has the name of Pontifex been given Unto the Church's head, as the chief builder And architect of the invisible bridge That leads from earth to heaven.

Even cities have their graves!

See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks!