The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
How in the turmoil of life can love stand, Where there is not one heart, and one mouth and one hand. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives whom we call dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright. The house is full of life and light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Does not all the blood within me Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, As the springs to meet the sunshine. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The highest exercise of imagination is not to devise what has no existence, but rather to perceive what really exists, though unseen… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Gone are the living, but the dead remain, And not neglected; for a hand unseen, Scattering its bounty like a summer rain,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are… — 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… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
How can I tell the signals and the signs By which one heart another heart divines? How can I tell the many… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, Are merely… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion that if by chance it be shaken, or into… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The life of woman is full of woe, Toiling on and on and on, With breaking heart, and tearful eyes, The secret… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
That was the first sound in the song of love! Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound. Hands of invisible… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Perhaps the chief cause which has retarded the progress of poetry in America, is the want of that exclusive cultivation, which so… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Quotes about Life Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining; Behind the clouds the sun is shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings. — 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 course of my long life hath reached at last in fragile bark over a tempestuous sea the common harbor, where must… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The shadows of the mind are like those of the body. In the morning of life they all lie behind us; at… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The tragic element in poetry is like Saturn in alchemy, the Malevolent, the Destroyer of Nature ; but without it no… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Live up to the best that is in you: Live noble lives, as you all may, in whatever condition you may find… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Youth, hope, and love: To build a new life on a ruined life, To make the future fairer than the past, And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the… — 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
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
