Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( 10 of 238 )
I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of read more
I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang with many a change,
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Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
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Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies
Alone are the interpreters of thought?
Whose household words are songs in many keys,
Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught!
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
Enjoy the spring of love and youth,
To some good angel leave the rest,
For time will read more
Enjoy the spring of love and youth,
To some good angel leave the rest,
For time will teach thee soon the truth,
"There are no birds in last year's nest."
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles read more
A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain.
The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the read more
The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
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Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it.
Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it.
Listen, every one
That listen may, unto a tale
That's merrier than the nightingale.
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Listen, every one
That listen may, unto a tale
That's merrier than the nightingale.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn (pt. III,),
