Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellowwas an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. He was also the first American to translate Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, and was one of the five Fireside Poets...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth27 February 1807
CityPortland, ME
CountryUnited States of America
art nature counterfeit-money
The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art.
victory triumph defeat
In ourselves are triumph and defeat.
dream sleep let-me
Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet!
stars men sight
Were a star quenched on high,For ages would its light,Still travelling downward from the sky,Shine on our mortal sight. So when a great man dies,For years beyond our ken,The light he leaves behind him liesUpon the paths of men.
life waiting labour
Learn to labour and to wait.
very-good
And when she was good she was very very good. But when she was bad she was horrid.
heart sunshine wind
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.
inspirational time sorrow
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.
dream strong eye
There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye.
wall architect
We are all architects of faith, ever living in these walls of time.
noble heroic type
A noble type of good. Heroic womanhood.
life death dream
Quotes about Life Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem. 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.
music night poetry
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, and silently steal away.
fate voice rivers
...for it is the fate of a woman Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless, Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence. Hence is the inner life of so many suffering women Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean rivers Runnng through caverns of darkness...