Explore "Mary Seaham, Volume II" by Mrs. Grey on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Me, the still "London" not the restless "Town" / (The light plume fluttering o'er Cybele's crown,) / Delights; -- for there the grave romance hath shed / Its hues, and air grows solemn with the dead. / THE NEW TIMON.
Lives of great men all remind us / We can make our lives sublime, / And, departing, leave behind us / Footprints on the sands of time. / LONGFELLOW.