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. - 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.

Ye who love the haunts of Nature,
Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest,
Love the wind among the branches,
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm,
And the rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades of pine-trees,
And the thunder in the mountains,
Whose innumerable echoes
Flap like eagles in their eyries;-
Listen to these wild traditions,
To this Song of Hiawatha!

In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the Gods are everywhere