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In December ring Every day the chimes Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!
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
Every
Loud
Expire
Till
Chimes
Sing
Rhymes
Streets
December
Higher
Merry
Fire
Rhyme
Night
Ring
Ever
Rings
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The natural alone is permanent.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Noble souls, through dust and heat, rise from disaster and defeat the stronger.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A noble type of good. Heroic womanhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
By unseen hands uplifted in the light Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad, And wafted up to heaven.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who dares To say that he alone has found the truth?
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They who go Feel not the pain of parting it is they Who stay behind that suffer.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms not person than graces of mind, more admirers than friends, mole fools than wise men for attendants.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time is the life of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Write on your doors the saying wise and old, Be bold! be bold! and everywhere - Be bold Be not too bold! Yet better the excess Than the defect better the more than less Better like Hector in the field to die, Than like a perfumed Paris turn and fly.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The star of the unconquered will, He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still, And calm, and self-possessed.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
