Harps Quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Download Open image “And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 2.1 out of 5 (4 ratings) Copy quoteShare Harps Masts Play Ships Shrouds Wind
Wind is the heart of the wave, the spoon of the sea and the angry bull of the ships. Without wind, there is no… — Mehmet Murat Ildan Copy Share Image
The harp sounds at each passing breeze, but that does not mean the tune is masterfully played. — Jacqueline Carey Copy Share Image
Behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“The ships whose masts I saw outlined against the sky looked, with their black hulls, like silent monsters that were raising their hackles and… — Knut Hamsun Copy Share Image
Great waves, and blaze with fire like them.In beauty, but do not condemn,The seamen who embark and fail,But only those who will not sail. — John Piper Copy Share Image
The wind of God is always blowing... but you must hoist your sail. — Francois Fenelon Copy Share Image
“Old Ironsides" Aye tear her tattered ensign down long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;-- The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the… — Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr Copy Share
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam, Where the shrill winds whistle free. — Charles Mackay Copy Share Image
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain. — Bayard Taylor Copy Share Image
“The first sound was the bowstrings, the snap of five thousand hemp cords being tightened by stressed yew, and that sound was like the… — Bernard Cornwell 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. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. On such a tranquil night as this, She woke Endymion with a kiss, When, sleeping… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
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, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics. Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows; But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners;… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
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, Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, To the Land of the Hereafter! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share
The trees change their voices in autumn as well as their shapes. No longer do they whisper to one another in muffled tones as they did in summer; they talk in a different leaf-language now. The wind moves through the boughs like fingers drawn across the strings of a harp filling the air with the harsh dry sound of sapless… — Patience Strong Copy Share
(As a boy) I was listening to Sonny Boy Williamson's (I) records and I would close my eyes and I could visualize myself playing… — Junior Wells Copy Share Image
He liked to think that Heaven was what each person wanted it to be. He could see no future in lying around on a… — Elmer Kelton Copy Share Image
Nature is an aeolian harp, a musical instrument whose tones are the re-echo of higher strings within us. — Novalis Copy Share Image
Limbo is the place. In Limbo one has natural happiness without the beatific vision; no harps; no communal order; but wine and conversation and… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
I harp always on the 'idea' of life as I dwell perpetually on the existence of the moment. — Marsden Hartley Copy Share Image
The whole world is burdened with young fogies. Old men with ossified minds are easily dealt with. But men who look young, act young,… — Robertson Davies Copy Share Image
When it seems like the night will last forever, And there's nothing left to do but count the years, When the strings of my harp to sever, And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears... I will walk alone by the black muddy river, And dream me a dream of my own, I will walk alone by the black… — Robert Hunter Copy Share
I am producing sounds that people are not used to hearing from the harp. — Joanna Newsom Copy Share Image
During the reign of Rameses III (the Twentieth Dynasty) Egypt saw a flowering of its civilization and the harp became the royal instrument of priests and kings. Often times they had as many as 21 strings. Under the manipulation "the Minstrels of the Gods" the music was of rare potency. "Musical Medicine" was an actuality. Healing, along with numerous so-called… — Corinne Heline Copy Share
In winter, when the dismal rain Comes down in slanting lines, And Wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines. — Alexander Smith Copy Share Image
