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The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
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
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Dead
Full
Farewells
Mourning
Farewell
Air
Dying
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I do not love thee less for what is done, And cannot be undone. Thy very weakness Hath brought thee nearer to me, and henceforth My love will have a sense of pity in it, Making it less a worship than before.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature paints not In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds And flying vapors.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Talk not of wasted affection - affection never was wasted.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, Are merely shadows cast by outward things On stone or canvas, having in themselves No separate existence. Architecture, Existing in itself, and not in seeming A something it is not, surpasses them As substance shadow.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dead he is not, but departed, for the artist never dies.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The secret anniversaries of the heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be noble in every thought And in every deed!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In ourselves are triumph and defeat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some critics are like chimney-sweepers they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.
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
Do not delay, Do not delay: the golden moments fly!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be thy sleep Silent as night is, and as deep.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
