Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.

And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, read more

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, and all is o'er,
A plunge, a bubble, and no more.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold read more

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious
the world of God within us. There read more

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious
the world of God within us. There lies the Land of Song; there
lies the poet's native land.

It cometh into court and pleads the cause
Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
And read more

It cometh into court and pleads the cause
Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
And this shall make, in every Christian clime,
The bell of Atri famous for all time.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep read more

So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep from mine eyes away;
I will go down to the chapel and pray.

The picture that approaches sculpture nearest
Is the best picture.

The picture that approaches sculpture nearest
Is the best picture.

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning,--an
endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea read more

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning,--an
endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the
distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly
bodies.

To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.

To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.

The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.

The glory of Him who
Hung His masonry pendant on naught, when the world He created.