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The secret anniversaries of the heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Heart
Time
Anniversaries
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Secret
More quotes 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 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
When you ask one friend to dine, Give him your best wine! When you ask two, The second best will do!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls, The burial-ground God's-Acre.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths of literature,--in the genial Summertime.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time has a doomsday book, upon whose pages he is continually recording illustrious names. But as often as a new name is written there, an old one disappears. Only a few stand in illuminated characters never to be effaced.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fair words gladden so many a heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Buried was the bloody hatchet Buried was the dreadful war-club Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was peace among the nations.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sang in tones of deep emotion Songs of love and songs of longing.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But ah! what once has been shall be no more! The groaning earth in travail and in pain Brings forth its races, but does not restore, And the dead nations never rise again.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
