American poet (1807-1882)
Sail forth into the sea of life,
O gentle, loving, trusting wife,
And safe from all adversity
Upon the bosom of that sea
Thy comings and thy goings be!
For gentleness and love and trust
Prevail o'er angry wave and gust;
And in the wreck of noble lives
Something immortal still survives.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"The Building of the Ship"
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted;
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning
Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment;
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Evangeline: A Tale of Acadia
Who dares to say that he alone has found the truth?
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
The New England Tragedies
A stiff letter galls one like a stiff shirt collar -- whilst a sheet garnished here and there with a careless blot -- and here and there a dash -- but in the main full of excellent matter, is like a clever fellow in a dirty shirt whom we value for the good humour he brings with him and not for the garb he wears.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
letter to Patrick Greenleaf, October 23, 1826
All your strength is in your union.
All your danger is in discord;
Therefore be at peace henceforward,
And as brothers live together.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"The Song of Hiawatha"
Each day is a branch of the Tree of Life laden heavily with fruit. If we lie down lazily beneath it, we may starve; but if we shake the branches, some of the fruit will fall for us.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Table-Talk
I cannot believe any man can be perfectly well in body, who has much labor of the mind to perform.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
letter to Stephen Longfellow, September 17, 1842
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
letter to Stephen Longfellow, September 17, 1842
There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"Resignation"
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.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"A Psalm of Life"
Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
To-morrow be to-day.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Keramos
Turn, turn, my wheel! All things must change
To something new, to something strange;
Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
To-morrow be to-day.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Kéramos
And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Midnight Mass for the Dying Year
Ah! this beautiful world ... Indeed, I know not what to think of it. Sometimes it is all gladness and sunshine, and heaven itself lies not far off. And then it changes suddenly, and is dark and sorrowful, and clouds shut out the sky. In the lives of the saddest of us, there are bright days like this, when we feel as if we could take the great world in our arms. Then come the gloomy hours, when the fire will neither burn on our hearths nor in our hearts; and all without and within is dismal, cold, and dark.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Hyperion
Labor with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits the rising of the sun.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"Something Left Undone"
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
"A Day of Sunshine"
Southward with fleet of ice
Sailed the corsair Death;
Wild and fast blew the blast,
And the east-wind was his breath.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"Sir Humphrey Gilbert"
I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Kavanagh: A Tale
Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme,
Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay;
Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime,
For oh, it is not always May!
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
"It Is Not Always May"
There rises the moon, broad and tranquil, through the branches of a walnut tree on a hill opposite. I apostrophize it in the words of Faust; "O gentle moon, that lookest for the last time upon my agonies!" --or something to that effect.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
letter to Charles Sumner, September 17, 1842