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
But the good deed, through the ages Living in historic pages, Brighter grows and gleams immortal, Unconsumed by moth or rust. — 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
Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it; the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves. — 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
The sunshine fails, the shadows grow more dreary, And I am near to fall, infirm and weary. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
I venerate old age; and I love not the man who can look without emotion upon the sunset of life, when the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
This song of mine Is a song of the vine To be sung by the glowing embers Of wayside inns, When the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes… — 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
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
