Flower Quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How like they are to human things!

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

These stars of earth, these golden flowers.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

An angel visited the green earth, and took a flower away.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Oh the long and dreary Winter! Oh the cold and cruel Winter!

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All things are symbols: the external shows Of Nature have their image in the mind , As flowers and fruits and falling…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Your silent tents of green We deck with fragrant flowers; Yours has the suffering been, The memory shall be ours.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Stars of earth, these golden flowers; emblems of our own great resurrection; emblems of the bright and better land.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“The purpose of that apple tree is to grow a little new wood each year. That is what I plan to do.”

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives, When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives, Sweet as a song that once consoled…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

O flower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the river Linger to kiss thy feet! O flower of song, bloom on, and make forever…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining, Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day, Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining, Buds that…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Our blossoms of passion, gay and luxuriant flowers, are bright and full of fragrance, but they beguile us and lead us astray,…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow, See how its leaves are turned to the north, as…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes,…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ah, how wonderful is the advent of the Spring!—the great annual miracle… which no force can stay, no violence restrain, like love,…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“Snow-flakes By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The swallow is come! The swallow is come! O, fair are the seasons, and light Are the days that she brings, With…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Many people do not allow their principles to take root, but pull them up every now and then, as children do the…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Each day is a branch of the Tree of Life laden heavily with fruit. If we lie down lazily beneath it, we…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

We waste our best years in distilling the sweetest flowers of life into potions which, after all, do not immortalize, but only…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

That tree is very old, but I never saw prettier blossoms on it than it now bears. That tree grows new wood…

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow