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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( 10 of 238 )

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  8  /  17  

Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.

Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.

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  12  /  18  

As turning the logs will make a dull fire burn, so changes of
studies a dull brain.

As turning the logs will make a dull fire burn, so changes of
studies a dull brain.

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  6  /  10  

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

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  11  /  17  

See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the read more

See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the snowy peaks!

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  17  /  22  

I love the season well
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded read more

I love the season well
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming of storms.

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  34  /  39  

The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.

The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.

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  8  /  13  

So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him read more

So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.

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  22  /  18  

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
read more

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
Phantoms that seem to live.

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  25  /  56  

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, read more

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,
As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!

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  11  /  13  

The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
read more

The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.

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