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For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
Professor
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Art
Heart
Work
Every
Giveth
Unto
Grace
Literature
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the shadows of night The world rolls into light.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silence is a great peacemaker.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things are symbols.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our blossoms of passion, gay and luxuriant flowers, are bright and full of fragrance, but they beguile us and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whatever poet, orator, or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When thou are not pleased, beloved, Then my heart is sad and darkened, As the shining river darkens When the clouds drop shadows on it! When thou smilest, my beloved, Then my troubled heart is brightened, As in sunshine gleam the ripples That the cold wind makes in rivers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the gift of God, and must be used unto His glory.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
