Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Bell, thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell, thou soundest solemnly, When, on Sabbath morning, Fields… — 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
After a day of cloud and wind and rain Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again, And touching all the darksome woods… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes and roofs of villages, on woodland crests and their aerial neighborhoods of nests deserted,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The motives and purposes of authors are not always so pure and high, as, in the enthusiasm of youth, we sometimes imagine.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Perhaps there lives some dreamy boy, untaught In schools, some graduate of the field or street, Who shall become a master of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in… — 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 Image
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 Image
“ 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 Image
There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 Image
“ 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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
