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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes - Page 9

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All nature ... is a respiration Of the Spirit of God, who, in breathing hereafter Will inhale it into his bosom again, So that nothing but God alone will remain.

All nature ... is a respiration Of the Spirit of God, who, in breathing hereafter Will inhale it into his bosom again, So that nothing but God alone will remain.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature, Breathing, Spirit
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1861). “The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, including his translations and notes”, p.227

Every man has his secret sorrows.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sad, Depression, Being Happy

There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Heart, Water, Secret
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2012). “Favorite Poems”, p.64, Courier Corporation

If spring came but once a century instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all the hearts to behold the miraculous change.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature, Time, Spring
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1883). “Complete Works”

To charm, to strengthen, and to teach: these are the three great chords of might.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Three, Might, Charm
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1862). “The Poetical Works of H. W. Longfellow. Eight Engravings on Steel”, p.181

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Color, Sea, Waves Breaking
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1844). “The Spanish Student: A Play in Three Acts”, p.50

Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fate, Destiny, Literature
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.1877, Delphi Classics

Many readers judge of the power of a book by the shock it gives their feelings - as some savage tribes determine the power of muskets by their recoil; that being considered best which fairly prostrates the purchaser.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Funny, Reading, Book
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, J. D. McClatchy (2000). “Poems and Other Writings”, p.729, Library of America

How wonderful is the human voice! It is indeed the organ of the soul. The intellect of man is enthroned visibly on his forehead and in his eye, and the heart of man is written on his countenance, but the soul, the soul reveals itself in the voice only.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Heart, Eye, Men
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1851). “The prose works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow”, p.113

It is autumn; not without But within me is the cold. Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Spring, Fall, Autumn
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, J. D. McClatchy (2000). “Poems and Other Writings”, p.664, Library of America

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

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature, Clouds, Keys
Anonymous, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “A Day With Longfellow”, Library of Alexandria

As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, all my dreams, come back to me.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dream, Sea, Legends
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1871). “The Poetical Works”, p.131

Like black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Anchors, Sea, Tree
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.1932, Delphi Classics

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.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Feet, Vices, Saint
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1867). “The Poetical Works of H. W. Longfellow. Complete Edition”, p.273

Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Summer, Song, Heart
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1848). “Poems”, p.108

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
Life, Time, Art
"A Psalm of Life" st. 4 (1838)

What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries-these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the Soul.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Inspirational, Summer, Running
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1854). “The Works of Henry W. Longfellow”

Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be! For gentleness and love and trust Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Adversity, Sea, Wife
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1867). “The Poetical Works of H. W. Longfellow. Complete Edition”, p.130

Ah, how wonderful is the advent of the Spring!—the great annual miracle.... which no force can stay, no violence restrain, like love, that wins its way and cannot be withstood by any human power, because itself is divine power. If Spring came but once in a century, instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and expectation would there be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change!... We are like children who are astonished and delighted only by the second-hand of the clock, not by the hour-hand.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Children, Spring, Heart

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Beach, Sea, Aghast
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1848). “Poems”, p.39

For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Heart, Church Bells, Voice
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.1078, Delphi Classics

I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths of literature,--in the genial Summertime.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Song, Children, Passion
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1861). “Hyperion, a romance. Kavanagh, a tale”, p.79

Whatever poet, orator, or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time, Age, May
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, J. D. McClatchy (2000). “Poems and Other Writings”, p.627, Library of America

They are dead; but they live in each Patriot's breast, And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Uplifting, Memorial Day, Names
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.39, Delphi Classics

Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Inspirational, Dream, Illusion
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2008). “Michael Angelo and Translations”, p.18, Wildside Press LLC

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