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Buried was the bloody hatchet Buried was the dreadful war-club Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was peace among the nations.
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
War
Buried
Clubs
Cry
Forgotten
Hatchet
Weapons
Warlike
Among
Dreadful
Nations
Bloody
Peace
Club
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Weak minds make treaties with the passions they cannot overcome, and try to purchase happiness at the expense of principle but the resolute will of a strong man scorns such means, and struggles nobly with his foe to achieve great deeds.
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I will be a man among men and no longer a dreamer among shadows. Henceforth be mine a life of action and reality! I will work in my own sphere, nor wish it other than it is. This alone is health and happiness.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Man is always more than he can know of himself consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, For oh, it is not always May!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All that is best in the great poets of all countries is not what is national in them, but what is universal.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Magnificent autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds not like a hermit, clad in gray but like a warrior with the stain of blood in his brazen mail.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be noble in every thought And in every deed!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things.
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When thou are not pleased, beloved, Then my heart is sad and darkened, As the shining river darkens When the clouds drop shadows on it! When thou smilest, my beloved, Then my troubled heart is brightened, As in sunshine gleam the ripples That the cold wind makes in rivers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face the face of one long dead Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All things come round to him who will but wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then followed that beautiful season... Summer.... Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
