The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Compassion Copy Share Image
Art is the gift of God, and must be used unto His glory. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Boast Copy Share Image
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thought's of youth are long, long thoughhts — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Boys Copy Share Image
Truly, this world can get on without us, if we would but think so. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Self Copy Share Image
I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Bird Copy Share Image
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Ballad 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 Children Copy Share Image
The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Heart Copy Share Image
If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. — 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
Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Courtesy Copy Share Image
Buried was the bloody hatchet; Buried was the dreadful war-club; Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The life of woman is full of woe, Toiling on and on and on, With breaking heart, and tearful eyes, The secret… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“...Tis the center to which all gravitates. One finds no rest elswhere than here. There may be other cities that please us… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Native land Copy Share Image
...for it is the fate of a woman Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“The heights by which great men reach are not attained by sudden flight, but they while their companions slept went toiling upwards… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Great men Copy Share Image
As great Pythagoras of yore, Standing beside the blacksmith's door, And hearing the hammers, as they smote The anvils with a different… — 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
I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon, In the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Dungeons 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 Children Copy Share Image
