Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. Wikipedia

The Rainy Day

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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12 September

Santa Filomena

Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, Whene’er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise.The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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20 July

Voices of the Night

“I wrote this poem on the 3d of October, 1837, to send with a bouquet of autumnal flowers. I still remember the great delight I took in its composition, and the bright sunshine that streamed in at the southern windows as I walked to and...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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20 January

The Arrow and the Song

I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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25 December

The Slave’s Dream

BESIDE the ungathered rice he lay, His sickle in his hand; His breast was bare, his matted hair Was buried in the sand. Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep, He saw his native land.Wide through the landscape of his dreams The lordly Niger flowed; Beneath the palm-trees on the plain Once...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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08 October

Hymn To The Night

I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls!I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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10 August

Footsteps of Angels

When the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight;Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful firelight Dance upon the parlor wall;Then the forms of the departed Enter at...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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03 August

A Psalm of Life

What The Heart Of  The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.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...

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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24 July