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White swan of cities slumbering in thy nest . . . White phantom city, whose untrodden streets Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting Shadows of the palaces and strips of sky.
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
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Longfellow
White
Shadows
Phantom
Rivers
Swans
Sky
Pavement
Shadow
Nest
Untrodden
City
Phantoms
Pavements
Whose
Nests
Slumbering
Streets
Palaces
Swan
Cities
Shifting
Strips
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart
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
Quotes about Life Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem. 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
I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When we walk towards the sun of Truth, all shadows are cast behind us.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once in a lifetime.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some critics are like chimney-sweepers they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.
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
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth wrenches the sceptre from old age, and sets the crown on its own head before it is entitled to it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Talk not of wasted affection - affection never was wasted.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Learn to labour and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The first pressure of sorrow crushes out from our hearts the best wine afterwards the constant weight of it brings forth bitterness, the taste and stain from the lees of the vat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
