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It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.
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
Leaves
Withering
Among
Incessant
Living
November
Like
Coal
Sheaves
Autumn
Piped
Burned
Quails
Apples
Coals
Shock
Shocks
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
God is not dead nor doth He sleep ... The wrong shall fail, The right prevail, With peace on earth, good will to men.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O little souls! as pure as white And crystalline as rays of light Direct from heaven, their source divine Refracted through the mist of years, How red my setting sun appears, How lurid looks this soul of mine!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind, Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, To the Land of the Hereafter!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
More hearts are breaking in this world of ours Than one would say. In distant villages And solitudes remote, where winds have wafted The barbed seeds of love, or birds of passage Scattered them in their flight, do they take root, And grow in silence, and in silence perish.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Where'er a noble deed is wrought, Where'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts in glad surprise To higher levels rise.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of His mother, as if to teach us that this holy love should be our last worldly thought - the last point of earth from which the soul should take its flight for heaven.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest of all the arts.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whoever benefits his enemy with straightforward intention that man's enemies will soon fold their hands in devotion.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well, and doing well whatever you do without thought of fame. If it comes at all it will come because it is deserved, not because it is sought after.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things come round to him who will but wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the living, but the dead remain, And not neglected for a hand unseen, Scattering its bounty like a summer rain, Still keeps their graves and their remembrance green.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
