Where, twisted round the barren oak, The summer vine in beauty clung, And summer winds the stillness broke, The crystal icicle is… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face the face of one long dead Looks at me from the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Time rides with the old At a great pace. As travellers on swift steeds See the near landscape fly and flow behind… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round, If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not… — 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
