The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
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Page vii
... Spirit of Poetry , The TRANSLATIONS : - Good Shepherd , The To - Morrow Native Land , The Image of God , The Coplas de Manrique Brook , The • Celestial Pilot , The Terrestrial Paradise , The PAGE 2 3 3 4 7 19 6 6 8 ∞ 9 IO 1Ο 12 14 14 ...
... Spirit of Poetry , The TRANSLATIONS : - Good Shepherd , The To - Morrow Native Land , The Image of God , The Coplas de Manrique Brook , The • Celestial Pilot , The Terrestrial Paradise , The PAGE 2 3 3 4 7 19 6 6 8 ∞ 9 IO 1Ο 12 14 14 ...
Page xv
... SPIRIT OF POETRY . And this is the sweet spirit , that doth fill The world . THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER . PAGE I II 13 Even the dial , that stood on the hillock among the departed ( There full a hundred years had it stood ) was ...
... SPIRIT OF POETRY . And this is the sweet spirit , that doth fill The world . THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER . PAGE I II 13 Even the dial , that stood on the hillock among the departed ( There full a hundred years had it stood ) was ...
Page xix
... spirit glorified , Filled and overflowed the night With revelations of her light . THE GOLDEN MILE - STONE . By the fireside there are youthful dreamers , Building castles fair , with stately stairways , Asking blindly Of the Future ...
... spirit glorified , Filled and overflowed the night With revelations of her light . THE GOLDEN MILE - STONE . By the fireside there are youthful dreamers , Building castles fair , with stately stairways , Asking blindly Of the Future ...
Page 3
... spirit drank repose ; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there , ― From those deep cisterns flows . O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before : Thou lay'st thy finger on the lips of Care , And they complain ...
... spirit drank repose ; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there , ― From those deep cisterns flows . O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before : Thou lay'st thy finger on the lips of Care , And they complain ...
Page 5
... spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft rebukes , in blessings ended , Breathing from her lips of air . O , though oft depressed and lonely , All my fears are laid aside , If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died ! FLOWERS ...
... spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft rebukes , in blessings ended , Breathing from her lips of air . O , though oft depressed and lonely , All my fears are laid aside , If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died ! FLOWERS ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold bells beneath birds Bons amis breath bright Chibiabos Chispa clouds cried Dacotahs dance dark dead death door dream earth Edenhall Elsie eyes face fair father fear feet Filled fire flowers forest Friar Gipsy gleam golden grave hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy John Alden Kenabeek King Olaf Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Mondamin moon morning night o'er Osseo Padre passed Pau-Puk-Keewis Pray prayer Prec Prince Henry river rose round sail Sandalphon sang shadow shining Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stand stars stood sunshine sweet sword Tharaw thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice walls wampum wandered whispered wigwam wild wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 4 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Page 338 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, -sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Page 338 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 162 - In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part ; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen ; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean.
Page 365 - LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventyfive ; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village...
Page 409 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence : Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together...
Page 4 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Page 110 - THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, 'That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some...
Page 342 - This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior ! At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice...
Page 157 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.