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The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they keep The long, mysterious Exodus of Death.
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
Tree
Trees
Sleep
Breath
Leafy
White
Mysterious
Exodus
Death
Breaths
Tents
Keep
Dust
Underneath
Long
Wave
Curtains
South
Broads
Wind
Broad
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great men stand like solitary towers in the city of God.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The motives and purposes of authors are not always so pure and high, as, in the enthusiasm of youth, we sometimes imagine. To many the trumpet of fame is nothing but a tin horn to call them home, like laborers from, the field, at dinner-time, and they think themselves lucky to get the dinner.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In ourselves are triumph and defeat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
The great tragedy of the average man is that he goes to his grave with his music still in him.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgment of others.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Give what you have. To some one, it may be better than you dare to think.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every author has the whole past to contend with all the centuries are upon him. He is compared with Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, - Be these henceforth thy theme. (excerpt from Voices of the Night)
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
