Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and silence. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man. — 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
O little souls! as pure as white And crystalline as rays of light Direct from heaven, their source divine; Refracted through the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face the face of one long dead Looks at me from the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. Shadows of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
It is folly to pretend that one ever wholly recovers from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar. There are… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The history of the past is a mere puppet-show. A little man comes out and blows a little trumpet, and goes in… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Oh, what a glory doth this world put on, for him who with a fervent heart goes forth under the bright and… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Under the spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The little I have seen of the world teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Men should soon make up their minds to be forgotten, and look about them, or within them, for some higher motive in… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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 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
