Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Oh, how beautiful is the summer night, which is not night, but a sunless, yet unclouded, day, descending upon earth with dews… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
See yonder fire! It is the moon slow rising o'er the eastern hill. It glimmers on the forest tips, and 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 moon is hidden behind a cloud... On the leaves is a sound of falling rain... No other sounds than these I… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
But the nearer the dawn the darker the night, And by going wrong all things come right. Things have been mended that… — 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
After a day of cloud and wind and rain Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again, And touching all the darksome woods… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I am the Angel of the Sun Whose flaming wheels began to run When God's almighty breath Said to the darkness and… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling… — 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
How absolute and omnipotent is the silence of night! And yet the stillness seems almost audible! From all the measureless depths of… — 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
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us! — 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
Men are four; He who knows and knows not that he knows. He is asleep; wake him. He who knows not and… — 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
