Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes
Top 100 wise famous quotes and sayings by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Famous Quotes & Sayings
Discover top inspirational quotes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Wise Famous Quotes.
Time has laid his hand
Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it,
But as a harper lays his open palm
Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.
Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it,
But as a harper lays his open palm
Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.
The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full of flowers.
Does not all the blood within me
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,
As the springs to meet the sunshine.
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,
As the springs to meet the sunshine.
I am weary of your quarrels,
Weary of your wars and bloodshed,
Weary of your prayers for vengeance,
Of your wranglings and dissensions
Weary of your wars and bloodshed,
Weary of your prayers for vengeance,
Of your wranglings and dissensions
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service.
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath.
Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun.
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme.
A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country; and, moreover, very well contented with his own insignificant person.
Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.
It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.
For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.
We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep, All things within its bosom sleep! A single step, and all is o'er, A plunge, a bubble, and no more.
I am never indifferent, and never pretend to be, to what people say or think of my books. They are my children, and I like to have them liked.
Every man is in some sort a failure to himself. No one ever reaches the heights to which he aspires.
Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live.
Critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new author.
It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.
Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit.
Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate springtide.
Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest!
Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.
O Music! language of the soul, Of love, of God to man; Bright beam from heaven thrilling, That lightens sorrow's weight.