The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. New complete ed., with illustr, by J. Gilbert |
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Page 10
... voice nor sound was there , No drum , nor sentry's pace ; The mist - like banners clasped the air , As clouds with ... VOICES OF THE NIGHT .
... voice nor sound was there , No drum , nor sentry's pace ; The mist - like banners clasped the air , As clouds with ... VOICES OF THE NIGHT .
Page 11
... voice , nor sound is there , In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air , But the rushing of Life's wave . And , when the solemn and deep church - bell Entreats the soul to pray , The midnight phantoms feel the spell ...
... voice , nor sound is there , In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air , But the rushing of Life's wave . And , when the solemn and deep church - bell Entreats the soul to pray , The midnight phantoms feel the spell ...
Page 12
... voice , Gentle and low . To the crimson woods he saith , - To the voice gentle and low 66 Of the soft air , like a daughter's breath , — Pray do not mock me so ! Do not laugh at me ! " And now the sweet day is dead ; Cold in his arms it ...
... voice , Gentle and low . To the crimson woods he saith , - To the voice gentle and low 66 Of the soft air , like a daughter's breath , — Pray do not mock me so ! Do not laugh at me ! " And now the sweet day is dead ; Cold in his arms it ...
Page 16
... voice , and give him eloquent teachings . He shall so hear the solemn hymn , that Death Has lifted up for all , that ... voices fill the woodland side . Alas ! how changed from the fair scene , When birds sang out their mellow lay , And ...
... voice , and give him eloquent teachings . He shall so hear the solemn hymn , that Death Has lifted up for all , that ... voices fill the woodland side . Alas ! how changed from the fair scene , When birds sang out their mellow lay , And ...
Page 19
... voice It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought , When the fast - ushering star of morning comes O'er - riding the gray hills with golden scarf ; Or when the cowled and dusky - sandaled Eve , In mourning weeds , from out the western ...
... voice It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought , When the fast - ushering star of morning comes O'er - riding the gray hills with golden scarf ; Or when the cowled and dusky - sandaled Eve , In mourning weeds , from out the western ...
Other editions - View all
The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. New Complete Ed., with ... Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2018 |
The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. New Complete Ed., with ... Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2015 |
The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. New Complete Ed., with ... Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
angel answer arms beautiful beneath birds breath bright called clouds comes dance dark dead death deep door dream earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet fell fire flowers follow forest FRIAR Gipsy give gleam golden grave hand hast head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy hope HYPOLITO land LARA Laughing leaves light lips live look maiden moon morning never night o'er once pass play Pray prayer PRECIOSA PRINCE HENRY rest rise river rose round sail sang seemed shadow shining side silent singing sleep soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stands stars stood strong sweet Take tell thee things thou thought trees unto VICTORIAN village voice wait walls wander wave wild wind youth
Popular passages
Page 90 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!
Page 288 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workman wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope. What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Page 81 - The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. 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 206 - Read from some humbler poet. Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.
Page 633 - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the black wharves and the slips, And the sea-tides tossing free ; And Spanish sailors with bearded lips. And the beauty and mystery of the ships, And the magic of the sea. And the voice of that wayward song Is singing and saying still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Page 85 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Page 82 - 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. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION.
Page 187 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts!
Page 643 - Come to me, O ye children ! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your caresses, And the gladness of your looks ? Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said ; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.
Page 53 - SPEAK ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms. Why dost thou haunt me ? " Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. " I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold, No Skald in song...