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
It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
How wonderful is the human voice! It is indeed the organ of the soul. The intellect of man is enthroned visibly on… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Art is the child of Nature; yes, Her darling child, in whom we trace The features of the mother's face, Her aspect… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 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
