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Sail on ship of state, sail on, I union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, with all its hopes of future years, is hanging on thy fate! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is done; and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And oft the blessed time foretellsWhen all men shall be free;And musical, as silver bells,Their falling chains shall be. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A torn jacket is soon mended, but hard words bruise the heart of a child. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The emigrant's way o'er the western desert is mark'd byCamp-fires long consum'd and bones that bleach in the sunshine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They are dead; but they live in each Patriot's breast, And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The world loves a spice of wickedness. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright. The house is full of life and light. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Music is the universal language of mankind. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They, the holy ones and weakly,Who the cross of suffering bore,Folded their pale hands so meekly,Spake with us on earth no more! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In what a forge and what a heat were shaped the anchors of thy hope! Fear not each sudden sound and shock; 'Tis of the wave and not the rock. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Like black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I know not how it is, but during a voyage I collect books as a ship does barnacles. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Trust no future, however pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act act in the living Present! Heart within and God overhead. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Will without power is like children playing at soldiers. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A life that is worth writing at all is worth writing minutely. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Very hot and still the air was, Very smooth the gliding river, Motionless the sleeping shadows. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate springtide. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With many readers, brilliancy of style passes for affluence of thought; they mistake buttercups in the grass for immeasurable gold mines under ground. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Prayer is innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant 'twist the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth, hope, and love: To build a new life on a ruined life, To make the future fairer than the past, And make the past appear a troubled dream. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One if by land, two if by sea. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
An angel visited the green earth, and took a flower away. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When we walk towards the sun of Truth, all shadows are cast behind us. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ambition's cradle oftenest is its grave By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There are favorable hours for reading a book, as for writing it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Unasked, Unsought, Love gives itself but is not bought By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dead he is not, but departed, for the artist never dies. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When a great man dies, for years the light he leaves behind him, lies on the paths of men. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Give what you have to somebody, it may be better than you think. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice Triumphs; By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sang in tones of deep emotion Songs of love and songs of longing. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The young may die, but the old must! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nor deem the irrevocable PastAs wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at lastTo something nobler we attain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,A fisherman stood aghast,To see the form of a maiden fair,Lashed close to a drifting mast. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
History casts its shadow far into the land of song. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Mormons make the marriage ring, like the ring of Saturn, fluid, not solid, and keep it in its place by numerous satellites. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love; To build a new life on a ruined life. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country; and, moreover, very well contented with his own insignificant person. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We have not wings we cannot soar; but, we have feet to scale and climb, by slow degrees, by more and more, the cloudy summits of our time. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Where, twisted round the barren oak,The summer vine in beauty clung,And summer winds the stillness broke,The crystal icicle is hung. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sea hath its pearlsThe heaven hath its starsBut my heart, my heartHas its love. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silence and solitude, the soul's best friends. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,Life is checkered shade and sunshine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Burn, O evening hearth, and waken Pleasant visions, as of old! Though the house by winds be shaken, Safe I keep this room of gold! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The twilight that surrounds the border-land of old romance. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,And, with his sickle keen,He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,And the flowers that grow between. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sunshine fails, the shadows grow more dreary,And I am near to fall, infirm and weary. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our hearts are lamps for ever burning ... By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The grave itself is but a covered bridge,Leading from light to light, through a brief darkness! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O suffering, sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Shepherds at the grange, Where the Babe was born, Sang with many a change, Christmas carols until morn. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full of flowers. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O gift of God! O perfect day: Whereon shall no man work, but play; Whereon it is enough for me, Not to be doing, but to be! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There's not a ship that sails the ocean, But every climate, every soil, Must bring its tribute, great or small, And help to build the wooden wall! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Happy, thrice happy, every one Who sees his labor well begun, And not perplexed and multiplied, By idly waiting for time and tide! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is autumn; not without But within me is the cold. Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This is the place. Stand still, my steed,- Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy past The forms that once have been. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Resolve, and thou art free. But breathe the airOf mountains, and their unapproachable summitsWill lift thee to the level of themselves. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be thy sleepSilent as night is, and as deep. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Make not thyself the judge of any man. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new author. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Perseverance is a great element of success. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Build me straight. O worthy Master! Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You know I say just what I think, and nothing more and less. I cannot say one thing and mean another. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Stay, stay at home, my heart and rest;Home-keeping hearts are happiest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tomorrow is the mysterious, unknown guest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There are no birds in last year's nest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A thought often makes us hotter than a fire. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be noble in every thought And in every deed! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Perhaps the greatest lesson which the lives of literary men teach us is told in a single word* Wait! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To be strong is to be happy! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature is a revelation of God; Art a revelation of man. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the long run men hit only what they aim at. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Your silent tents of greenWe deck with fragrant flowers;Yours has the suffering been,The memory shall be ours. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each tomorrowFind us farther than today. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Where'er a noble deed is wrought, Where'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts in glad surprise To higher levels rise. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the elder days of Art,Builders wrought with greatest careEach minute and unseen part;For the Gods are everywhere By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus at the flaming forge of lifeOur fortunes must be wrought;Thus on its sounding anvil shapedEach burning deed and thought! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,For the lesson thou hast taught!Thus at the flaming forge of lifeOur fortunes must be wrought By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The purpose of that apple tree is to grow a little new wood each year. That is what I plan to do. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How in the turmoil of life can love stand,Where there is not one heart, and one mouth and one hand. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No literature is complete until the language it was written in is dead. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us then, be up and doing. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You judge yourself by what your capable of doing, while others judge you by what you have already done By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A handful of red sand from the hot climeOf Arab deserts brought,Within this glass becomes the spy of Time,The minister of Thought. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Well I know the secret places, And the nests in hedge and tree; At what doors are friendly faces, In what hearts are thoughts of me. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep, All things within its bosom sleep! A single step, and all is o'er, A plunge, a bubble, and no more. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Would you learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers, comprehend its mystery! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The surest pledge of a deathless name Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth wrenches the sceptre from old age, and sets the crown on its own head before it is entitled to it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things are symbols: the external shows Of Nature have their image in the mind , As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Beautiful in form and feature, lovely as the day, can there be so fair a creature formed of common clay? By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
She floats upon the river of his thoughts. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The prayer of Ajax was for light. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The great tragedy of the average man is that he goes to his grave with his music still in him. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With useless endeavour Forever, forever, Is Sisyphus rolling His stone up the mountain! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ne speaketh not; and yet there lies a conversation in his eyes. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My designs and labors and aspirations are my only friends. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
These stars of earth, these golden flowers. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things come round to him who will but wait. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A solid man of Boston; A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Does not all the blood within meLeap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,As the springs to meet the sunshine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The poor too often turn away unheard, From hearts that shut against them with a sound That will be heard in heaven. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah! What would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some poems are like the Centaursa mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The picture that approaches sculpture nearest Is the best picture. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The bravest are the tenderest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For next to being a great poet is the power of understanding one. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Rule by patience, Laughing Water! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Wondrous strong are the spells of fiction. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed treesFilled all the air with fragrance and with joy. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How like they are to human things! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou sculptor, painter, poet! Take this lesson to thy heart: That is best which lieth nearest; Shape from that thy work of art. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Being all fashioned of the self-same dust, let us be merciful as well as just By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle showStrengthens and supports the rest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Softly the evening came /with the sunset/. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
At first laying down, as a fact fundamental, That nothing with God can be accidental. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But the great Master said, "I see No best in kind, but in degree; I gave a various gift to each, To charm, to strengthen, and to teach". By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great is the art of beginning. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thought takes man out of servitude, into freedom. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The morning pouring everywhere, its golden glory on the air. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Evil is only good perverted. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it;Every arrow that flies feels the attraction of earth. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silence is a great peacemaker. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day of the Lord, as all our days should be! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
By unseen hands uplifted in the light Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad, And wafted up to heaven. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When Christ ascended Triumphantly from star to star He left the gates of Heaven ajar. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whoever benefits his enemy with straightforward intention that man's enemies will soon fold their hands in devotion. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O Music! language of the soul, Of love, of God to man; Bright beam from heaven thrilling, That lightens sorrow's weight. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no light in earth or heaven but the cold light of stars; and the first watch of night is given to the red planet Mars. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, Nothing is too late, till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It takes less time to do a thing right than to explain why you did it wrong. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice, and lend to the rhyme of the poet the beauty of thy voice. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no flock, however watched and tended, but one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside howsoe'er defended, but has one vacant chair. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has his secret sorrows ... By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O flower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the river Linger to kiss thy feet! O flower of song, bloom on, and make forever The world more fair and sweet. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Men of genius are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fortune comes well to all that comes not late. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us be merciful as well as just. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In character, in manner, in style, in all the things, the supreme excellence is simplicity By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years mere study of books. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some must follow and some command, through all are made oclay. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once in a lifetime By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There's nothing in this world so sweet as love. And next to love the sweetest thing is hate. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Difficulty on the way to victory is opportunity for God to work By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As turning the logs will make a dull fire burn, so change of studies a dull brain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The love of learning, the sequestered nooks,And all the sweet serenity of books By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not happen. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Into a world unknown,-the corner-stone of a nation! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou child of many prayers!Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!Care and age come unawares! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The country is not priest-ridded, but press-ridden. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is? By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nothing with God can be accidental. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nothing is or can be accidental with God. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgment of others. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People of a lively imagination are generally curious, and always so when a little in love. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many a poem is marred by a superfluous word. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
These are the woes of Slaves;They glare from the abyss;They cry, from unknown graves,We are the Witnesses! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Books are sepulchres of thought. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The human voice is the organ of the soul. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For hate is strong,And mocks the songOf peace on earth, good-will to men! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is the gift of God, and is divine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Truly, this world can get on without us, if we would but think so. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round,If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the shdows of night The world rolls into light. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Perserverence is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Much must he toil who serves the Immortal Gods. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My Book and Heart Shall never part. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Its reward is in the doing,And the rapture of pursuingIs the prize By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love gives itself; it is not bought. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
God sifted a whole nation that he might send choice grain over into this wilderness. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A sermon is no sermon in which I cannot hear the heartbeat. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Do not delay,Do not delay: the golden moments fly! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is foolish to pretend that one is fully recovered from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and silence. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who daresTo say that he alone has found the truth? By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Today is the blocks with which we build. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then stars arise, and the night is holy. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The soul ... is audible, not visible. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many have genius, but, wanting art, are forever dumb. The two must go together to form the great poet, painter, or sculptor. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dost thou know what a hero is? Why, a hero is as much as one should say, a hero. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A boy's will is the wind's will. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Music is the language spoken by angels. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things are symbols. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Think not because no man sees, such things will remain unseen. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No one is so accursed by fate, no one so utterly desolate, but some heart though unknown responds unto his own. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Stars of earth, these golden flowers; emblems of our own great resurrection; emblems of the bright and better land. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We waste our best years in distilling the sweetest flowers of life into potions which, after all, do not immortalize, but only intoxicate. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We often excuse our own want of philanthropy by giving the name of fanaticism to the more ardent zeal of others. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The air of summer was sweeter than wine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man is in some sort a failure to himself. No one ever reaches the heights to which he aspires. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life like an empty dream flits by. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As the heart is, so is love to the heart. It partakes of its strength or weakness, its health or disease. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Defeat may be victory in disguise. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am never indifferent, and never pretend to be, to what people say or think of my books. They are my children, and I like to have them liked. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No endeavour is in vain;Its reward is in the doing. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is long, and Time is fleeting. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Resolve, and thou art free. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! O drooping souls, whose destinies Are fraught with fear and pain, Ye shall be loved again. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If you once understand an author's character, the comprehension of his writings becomes easy. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou shalt learnThe wisdom early to discernTrue beauty in utility. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From labor there shall come forth rest. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is dark and cold and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every author has the whole past to contend with; all the centuries are upon him. He is compared with Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All your strength in is your union. All your danger is in discord. Therefore be at peace henceforward, And as brothers live together. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Now to rivulets from the mountains Point the rods of fortune-tellers; Youth perpetual dwells in fountains, Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The country is lyric, the town dramatic. When mingled, they make the most perfect musical drama. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thought's of youth are long, long thoughhts By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Wreck of the Hesperus But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The star of the unconquered will, He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still, And calm, and self-possessed. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Races, better than we, have leaned on her wavering promise,Having naught else but Hope. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The soul never grows old. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fair words gladden so many a heart. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it; the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time has laid his handUpon my heart, gently, not smiting it,But as a harper lays his open palmUpon his harp, to deaden its vibrations. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All your strength is in union, all your danger is in discord. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Three silences there are: the first of speech, the second of desire, the third of thought. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I see, but cannot reach, the height That lies forever in the light. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To charm, to strengthen, and to teach: these are the three great chords of might. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A young critic is like a boy with a gun; he fires at every living thing he sees. He thinks only of his own skill, not of the pain he is giving. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time, like a preacher in the days of the Puritans, turned the hour-glass on his high pulpit, the church belfry. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The low desire, the base designThat makes another's virtues less. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us, then be up and doing,With a heart for any fate;Still achieving, still pursuing,Learn to labour and to wait. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The natural alone is permanent. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O beautiful, awful summer day, what hast thou given, what taken away? By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Death is the chillness that precedes the dawn; We shudder for a moment, then awake In the broad sunshine of the other life. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The nearer the dawnthe darker the night. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let him not boast who puts his armor on as he who puts it off, the battle done. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Into each life some rain must fall. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Don't cross the bridge til you come to it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Nile, forever new and old, Among the living and the dead, Its mighty, mystic stream has rolled. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh the long and dreary Winter! Oh the cold and cruel Winter! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
None but yourself who are your greatest foe. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Man is always more than he can know of himself; consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tis always morning somewhere. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us, then, be what we are; speak what we think; and in all things keep ourselves loyal to truth. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Live up to the best that is in you: Live noble lives, as you all may, in whatever condition you may find yourselves. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every arrow that flies feels the pull of the earth. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age is opportunity no less than youth itself. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Welcome, my old friend, Welcome to a foreign fireside. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Joy, temperance, and repose, slam the door on the doctor's nose. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, all my dreams, come back to me. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thoughtful of others. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Take this sorrow to thy heart and make it part of thee, and it shall nourish thee till thou art strong again. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Chill air and wintry winds! My ear has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen, and it cheers me long. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
God's voice was not in the earthquake, Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering breezes. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives whom we call dead. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heaven of poetry and romance still lies around us and within us. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For 'tis sweet to stammer one letterOf the Eternal's language; - on earth it is called Forgiveness! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Straight between them ran the pathway,Never grew the grass upon it By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Build today, then strong and sure, With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure. Shall tomorrow find its place. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the child of Nature. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Learn To Labor and to 'WAIT By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I hear the wind among the trees playing the celestial symphonies. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is willing. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let the dead Past bury its dead! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But the good deed, through the ages Living in historic pages, Brighter grows and gleams immortal, Unconsumed by moth or rust. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Wisely the Hebrews admit no Present tense in their language;While we are speaking the word, it is is already the Past. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Take them, O Death! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And so we plough along, as the fly said to the ox. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Success is not something to wait for, it is something to work for. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ye are better than all the balladsThat ever were sung or said;For ye are living poems,And all the rest are dead. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Balder the beautiful/is dead, is dead! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I cannot believe any man can be perfectly well in body, who has much labor of the mind to perform. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The men that women marry, And why they marry them, will always be A marvel and a mystery to the world. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If a woman shows too often the Medusa's head, she must not be astonished if her lover is turned into stone. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From dust thou art to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In youth all doors open outward; in old age all open inward. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am weary of your quarrels,Weary of your wars and bloodshed,Weary of your prayers for vengeance,Of your wranglings and dissensions By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I will be a man among men; and no longer a dreamer among shadows. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things must change to something new, to something strange. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We are very like the English, - are, in fact, English under a different sky. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We are all architects of faith, ever living in these walls of time. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love an author the more for having been himself a lover of books. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Taste the joyThat springs from labor. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has a paradise around him till he sins, and the angel of an accusing conscience drives him from his Eden. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Death is better than disease. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Resistance by its very nature demands that we choose choices not offered to us. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love thee, as the good love heaven. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You would attain to the divine perfection. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For the structure that we raise,Time is with materials filled;Our to-days and yesterdaysAre the blocks with which we build. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ambition is so powerful a passion in the human breast, that however high we reach we are never satisfied. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great men stand like solitary towers in the city of God. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every human heart is human. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay; Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, For oh, it is not always May! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land!" By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the mouths of many men soft words are like roses that soldiers put into the muzzles of their muskets on holidays. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is real, life is earnest, and the grave is not its goal. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All sense of hearing and of sight enfold in the serene delight and quietude of sleep. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Your education begins where what is called your education is over.Your fate is but the common lot of all. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is nothing perfectly secure but poverty. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People demand freedom only when they have no power. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every great poem is in itself limited by necessity, but in its suggestions unlimited and infinite. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Trouble is the next best thing to enjoyment; there is no fate in the world so horrible as to have no share in either its joys or sorrows. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the bright faces of my young companionsAre wrinkled like my own, or are no more. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All that is best in the great poets of all countries is not what is national in them, but what is universal. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My own thoughts Are my companions. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nothing that is can pause or stay. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Authors must not, like Chinese soldiers, expect to win victories by turning somersets in the air. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Learn to labour and to wait. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Even cities have their graves! By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time is the life of the soul. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Noble souls, through dust and heat, rise from disaster and defeat the stronger. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
However things may seem, no evil thing is success and no good thing is failure. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The emigrant's way ong>oong>'er the western desert is mark'd byCamp-fires long>oong>ng cong>oong>nsum'd and bong>oong>nes that bleach in the sunshine. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
