As the heart is, so is love to the heart. It partakes of its strength or weakness, its health or disease. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
It is a beautiful trait in the lovers character, that they think no evil of the object loved. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Talk not of wasted affection - affection never was wasted. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
If we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love; To build a new life on a ruined life. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The hearts of some women tremble like leaves at every breath of love which reaches them, and they are still again. Others,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Ah, how skillful grows the hand That obeyeth Love's command! It is the heart, and not the brain, That to the highest… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love is the root of creation; God's essence; worlds without number Lie in his bosom like children; he made them for this… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
O Music! language of the soul, Of love, of God to man; Bright beam from heaven thrilling, That lightens sorrow's weight. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate springtide. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood; as the Emperors signed their names in… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
More hearts are breaking in this world of ours Than one would say. In distant villages And solitudes remote, where winds have… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon, In the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
That was the first sound in the song of love! Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound. Hands of invisible… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Yes, Death brings us again to our friends. They are waiting for us, and we shall not long delay. They have gone… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
When thou are not pleased, beloved, Then my heart is sad and darkened, As the shining river darkens When the clouds drop… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity Upon the bosom of that… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“ Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers,— Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“ Endymion The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“The Children's Hour Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Unasked, Unsought, Love gives itself but is not bought” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
In old age our bodies are worn-out instruments, on which the soul tries in vain to play the melodies of youth. But because the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
“ Endymion The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
“ Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers,— Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Heights by great men reached and kept were not obtained by sudden flight but, while their companions slept, they were toiling upward in the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Ah, how skillful grows the hand That obeyeth Love's command! It is the heart, and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
Buried was the bloody hatchet; Buried was the dreadful war-club; Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was peace among… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
