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God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth, That they might touch the hearts of men, And bring them back to heaven again.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Heaven
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Mirth
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Think not because no man sees, such things will remain unseen.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round, If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground.
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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.
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Do not fear! Heaven is as near, He said, by water as by land!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
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.
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Be noble in every thought And in every deed!
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An angel visited the green earth, and took a flower away.
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Learn to labour and to wait.
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Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe!
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For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
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Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
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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.
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The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things come round to him who will but wait.
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Noble souls, through dust and heat, rise from disaster and defeat the stronger.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
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You would attain to the divine perfection.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silence is a great peacemaker.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow