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No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tis always morning somewhere.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let nothing disturb thee, Nothing affright thee All things are passing God never changeth Patient endurance Attaineth to all things Who God possesseth In nothing is wanting Alone God sufficeth.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is the gift of God, and is divine.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Success is not something to wait for, it is something to work for.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The moon is hidden behind a cloud... On the leaves is a sound of falling rain... No other sounds than these I hear The hour of midnight must be near... So many ghosts, and forms of fright, Have started from their graves to-night, They have driven sleep from mine eyes away: I will go down to the chapel and pray.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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 For the country folk to be up and to arm.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From dust thou art to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It takes less time to do a thing right, than it does to explain why you did it wrong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. Shadows of evening fall around us, and the world seems but a dim reflection - itself a broader shadow. We look forward into the coming lonely night. The soul withdraws into itself. Then stars arise, and the night is holy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A boy's will is the wind's will.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whatever poet, orator, or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Kind messages, that pass from land to land Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
