Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

Evil is only good perverted.

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If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!

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The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf.

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Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time and change, and for a single hour Renew this phantom-flower?

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Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, - Be these henceforth thy theme. (excerpt from "Voices of the Night")

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By the shores of Gitchee Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis, Dark behind it rose the forest, Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, Rose the firs with cones upon them; Bright before it beat the water, Beat the clear and sunny water, Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

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Silence is a great peacemaker.

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O flower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the river Linger to kiss thy feet! O flower of song, bloom on, and make forever The world more fair and sweet.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Song Quotes , Sweet Quotes

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Beautiful Quotes , Summer Quotes

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveler to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls.

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Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.

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The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces!

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Many have genius, but, wanting art, are forever dumb. The two must go together to form the great poet, painter, or sculptor.

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Some critics are like chimney-sweepers; they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above; they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.

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Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. And crying havoc on the slug and snail.

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It is foolish to pretend that one is fully recovered from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar.

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O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!

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The day is dark and cold and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary.

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I hear the wind among the trees Playing the celestial symphonies; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument.

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Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Feet Quotes , Vices Quotes