Henry Wadsworth Longfellow quotes - page 3

Youth comes but once in a lifetime. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
Under the spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With useless endeavour Forever, forever, Is Sisyphus rolling His stone up the mountain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I feel a kind of reverence for the first books of young authors. There is so much aspiration in them, so much audacious hope and trembling fear, so much of the heart's history, that all errors and shortcomings are for a while lost sight of in the amiable self assertion of youth.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A feeling of sadness and longing That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Alas it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few in number.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Resolve and thou art free. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine Kind words and kind deeds.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way But to act, that each to-morrow Finds us further than to-day.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Build me straight, O worthy Master Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land. A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The first pressure of sorrow crushes out from our hearts the best wine afterwards the constant weight of it brings forth bitterness, the taste and strain from the lees of the vat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Trust no future, however pleasant Let the dead past bury its dead Act, - act in the living Present Heart within and God overhead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow