Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death.... — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Stay, stay at home, my heart and rest; Home-keeping hearts are happiest. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
All sense of hearing and of sight enfold in the serene delight and quietude of sleep. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Very hot and still the air was, Very smooth the gliding river, Motionless the sleeping shadows. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
God is not dead; nor doth He sleep; ... The wrong shall fail, The right prevail, With peace on earth, good will… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus… — 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
Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep, All things within its bosom sleep! A single step, and all is o'er, A… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And… — 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… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes and roofs of villages, on woodland crests and their aerial neighborhoods of nests deserted,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives, When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives, Sweet as a song that once consoled… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong, And mocks 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
“Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant… — 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
