What seems to us but dim funeral tapers may be heaven's distant lamps. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes. — 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
Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The sun is set; and in his latest beams Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold, Slowly upon the amber air… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Each new epoch in life seems an encounter. There is a tussle and a cloud of dust, and we come out of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The nimble lie Is like the second-hand upon a clock; We see it fly; while the hour-hand of truth Seems to stand… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
More and more do I feel, as I advance in life, how little we really know of each other. Friendship seems to… — 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
Time rides with the old At a great pace. As travellers on swift steeds See the near landscape fly and flow behind… — 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
In the life of every man there are sudden transitions of feeling, which seem almost miraculous. At once, as if some magician… — 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
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
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
