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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
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
Professor
Translator
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Hands
Remain
Scattering
Stills
Rain
Bounty
Still
Summer
Tombstone
Life
Green
Remembrance
Like
Dead
Neglected
Hand
Unseen
Gone
Graves
Living
Keeps
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Wreck of the Hesperus But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he.
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Do not delay, Do not delay: the golden moments fly!
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None but yourself who are your greatest foe.
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It is Lucifer, The son of mystery And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.
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Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
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In youth all doors open outward in old age all open inward.
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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.
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I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon, In the round-tower of my heart, And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in the dust away!
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Youth, hope, and love: To build a new life on a ruined life, To make the future fairer than the past, And make the past appear a troubled dream.
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Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.
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All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.
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Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.
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All your strength is in union, all your danger is in discord.
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The day is done and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
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Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
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Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.
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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.
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A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
