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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
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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
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes and roofs of villages, on woodland crests and their aerial neighborhoods of nests deserted, on the curtained window-panes of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes and harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sculpture is more divine, and more like Nature, That fashions all her works in high relief, And that is Sculpture. This vast ball, the Earth, Was moulded out of clay, and baked in fire Men, women, and all animals that breathe Are statues, and not paintings.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People of a lively imagination are generally curious, and always so when a little in love.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Prayer is innocence's friend and willingly flieth incessant 'twist the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice, and lend to the rhyme of the poet the beauty of thy voice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For next to being a great poet is the power of understanding one.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Perhaps the greatest lesson which the lives of literary men teach us is told in a single word* Wait!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I promise myself great pleasure from my visit to England. You know I am to stay with Dickens while in London and beside his own very agreeable society, I shall enjoy that of the most noted literary men of the day, which will be a great gratification to me.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O gift of God! O perfect day: Whereon shall no man work, but play Whereon it is enough for me, Not to be doing, but to be!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life like an empty dream flits by.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Kind messages, that pass from land to land Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls, The burial-ground God's-Acre.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow