Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( 10 of 238 )
Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us footprints on read more
Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us footprints on the sands of time.
Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and
Clashing, clanging to the pavement
Hurl them from their windy tower!
Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and
Clashing, clanging to the pavement
Hurl them from their windy tower!
The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
read more
The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
O, fair are the seasons, and light
Are the days that she brings,
With her dusky wings,
And her bosom snowy white!
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he read more
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he call'd the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars that on earth's firmament do shine.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
read more
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
Old fold and young together, and children mingled among them.
Ah! vainest of all things
Is the gratitude of kings.
Ah! vainest of all things
Is the gratitude of kings.
It cometh into court and pleads the cause
Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
And read more
It cometh into court and pleads the cause
Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
And this shall make, in every Christian clime,
The bell of Atri famous for all time.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that read more
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright,
Of that rare happiness, which even on earth
Heaven gives to those it loves.
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.
