Quote

Well I know the secret places, And the nests in hedge and tree At what doors are friendly faces, In what hearts are thoughts of me.

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
Writer
Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Faces
Nests
Wells
Friendly
Well
Hearts
Places
Heart
Doors
Thoughts
Tree
Secret
Hedge

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O little feet! that such long years Must wander on through hopes and fears, Must ache and bleed beneath your load I, nearer to the wayside inn Where toil shall cease and rest begin, Am weary, thinking of your road!
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Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes a benefaction to the towns They visit, wandering silently among them, Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.
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The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes.
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The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart The secret anniversaries of the heart, When the full river of feeling overflows- The happy days unclouded to their close The sudden joys that our of darkness start As flames from ashes swift desires that dart Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.
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For bells are the voice of the church They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.
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The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.
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Prayer is innocence's friend and willingly flieth incessant 'twist the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.
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The country is not priest-ridded, but press-ridden.
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As the heart is, so is love to the heart. It partakes of its strength or weakness, its health or disease.
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Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars, Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul, Skoal! to the Northland! skoal! Thus the tale ended.
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A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country and, moreover, very well contented with his own insignificant person.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I am the Angel of the Sun Whose flaming wheels began to run When God's almighty breath Said to the darkness and the Night, Let there be light! and there was light.
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Silence and solitude, the soul's best friends.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
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Every man must patiently bide his time. He must wait -- not in listless idleness but in constant, steady, cheerful endeavors, always willing and fulfilling and accomplishing his task, that when the occasion comes he may be equal to the occasion.
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This will be a great day in our history the date of a New Revolution - quite as much needed as the old one. Even now as I write they are leading old John Brown to execution in Virginia for attempting to rescue slaves! This is sowing the wind to reap the whirlwind which will come soon!
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Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!
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Love is the root of creation God's essence worlds without number Lie in his bosom like children he made them for this purpose only. Only to love and to be loved again.
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Big words do not smite like war-clubs, Boastful breath is not a bow-string, Taunts are not so sharp as arrows, Deeds are better things than words are, Actions mightier than boastings.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow