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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow QUOTES

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow QUOTES

1 " The love of learning, the sequestered nooks,
And all the sweet serenity of books "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

2 " As Unto the bow the the cord is ,
So unto the man is woman;
Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him , yet she follows:
Useless each without the other. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

3 " I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

4 " 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 "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Ballads and Other Poems

5 " Ah, Nothing is too late, till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

6 " Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Tales of a Wayside Inn

7 " 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 are, to dust thou returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Voices of the Night

8 " Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

9 " Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

10 " Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Ballads and Other Poems

11 " 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. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Voices of the Night

12 " Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,
When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives,
Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain,
But never will be sung to us again,
Is they remembrance. Now the hour of rest
Hath come to thee. Sleep, darling: it is best. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

13 " Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Voices of the Night

14 " Music is the universal language of mankind. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

15 " If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it;
Every arrow that flies feels the attraction of earth. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , In the Harbor

16 " Resolve, and thou art free. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Flower-de-Luce, and the Masque of Pandora

17 " Unasked, Unsought, Love gives itself but is not bought "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , The Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

18 " The Children's Hour

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
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away! "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , The Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

19 " Art is long, and Time is fleeting. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Voices of the Night

20 " Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead. "

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Birds of Passage