Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. My Lost Youth (l. 5-9). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
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So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so gently, that we go Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay, Being too full of sleep to understand How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Nature (l. 9-14). . . Family Book of Best Loved Poems, The. David L. George, ed. (1952) Doubleday & Company.
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As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Nature (l. 1-3). . . Family Book of Best Loved Poems, The. David L. George, ed. (1952) Doubleday & Company.
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The course of my long life hath reached at last In fragile bark o'er a tempestuous sea The common harbor, where must rendered be Account for all the actions of the past.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), U.S. poet. Old Age.
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It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters used to hide themselves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), U.S. poet. one of the meditations of Mr. Churchill, inscribed on his pulpit, in Kavanagh, bk. 1, ch. 13 (1849).
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And so through the nightwent his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm,— A cry of defiance, and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo for evermore!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Paul Revere's Ride (Tales of a Wayside Inn) (l. 120-124). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.
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Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Paul Revere's Ride (Tales of a Wayside Inn) (l. 1-5). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.
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Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,— One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm,
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.s. poet. Paul Revere's Ride (Tales of a Wayside Inn) (l. 8-13). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.
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This is the poem of the air, Slowly in silent syllables recorded; This is the secret of despair, Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, Now whispered and revealed To wood and field.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Snow-Flakes (l. 13-18). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809-1882), U.S. poet. Snow-Flakes (l. 1-6). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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