The things that have been and shall be no more, The things that are, and that hereafter shall be, The things that… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
No man is so poor as that. As well might the mountain streamlets say they have nothing worth giving to the sea,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth, That they might touch the hearts of men, And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
To charm, to strengthen, and to teach: these are the three great chords of might. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving; as well might the mountain streamlets say they have nothing to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
God sifted a whole nation that he might send choice grain over into this wilderness. — 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
