The Poetical Works of Henry W. LongfellowWard, Lock, 1886 - 698 pages |
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Page xv
... shadow rests upon them with kindly proximity and protection . This is popularity . The question whether the popularity will be prolonged into enduring fame is much the same as the question in what degree the spirit of our own age will ...
... shadow rests upon them with kindly proximity and protection . This is popularity . The question whether the popularity will be prolonged into enduring fame is much the same as the question in what degree the spirit of our own age will ...
Page 7
... shadow Come between thee and me . Sweet Preciosa ! I loved thee even then , though I was silent ! Prec . I thought I ne'er should see thy face again . Thy farewell had a sound of sorrow in it . Vict . That was the first sound in the ...
... shadow Come between thee and me . Sweet Preciosa ! I loved thee even then , though I was silent ! Prec . I thought I ne'er should see thy face again . Thy farewell had a sound of sorrow in it . Vict . That was the first sound in the ...
Page 34
... shadows sail Across the running sea , now green , now blue , And , like an idle mariner on the main , Whistles the quail . Come , let us hasten on . ( Exeunt . SCENE II .-- Puòlic square in the village of Guadarrama . The Ave Maria ...
... shadows sail Across the running sea , now green , now blue , And , like an idle mariner on the main , Whistles the quail . Come , let us hasten on . ( Exeunt . SCENE II .-- Puòlic square in the village of Guadarrama . The Ave Maria ...
Page 41
... shadows Stalk through the forest , ever and anon Rising and bending with the flickering flame , Then flitting into ... shadow . Woe is me ! How still it is about me , and how lonely ! ( BARTOLOME rushes in . ) Bart . Ho ! Preciosa ! Prec ...
... shadows Stalk through the forest , ever and anon Rising and bending with the flickering flame , Then flitting into ... shadow . Woe is me ! How still it is about me , and how lonely ! ( BARTOLOME rushes in . ) Bart . Ho ! Preciosa ! Prec ...
Page 49
... shadows of earth , but reflecting an image of heaven ? Waste are those pleasant farms , and the farmers for ever departed ! Scattered like dust and leaves , when the mighty blasts of October D Seize them , and whirl them aloft , and ...
... shadows of earth , but reflecting an image of heaven ? Waste are those pleasant farms , and the farmers for ever departed ! Scattered like dust and leaves , when the mighty blasts of October D Seize them , and whirl them aloft , and ...
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Common terms and phrases
Angel answered arms arrows beautiful beneath birds breath bright close comes cried dark dead death deep door dream earth ended eyes face fair fall father fear feet fell fire flowers follow forest give gleam golden grave guests hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha Italy King King Olaf land Laughing leaves light listen living look Lord loud maiden morning never night o'er once passed Pau-Puk-Keewis prayer Prince Henry rest ring rise river rose round rushing sails sang seemed shadows shining ships silent singing sleep smile song soul sound spake speak spirit stand stars stood strong sweet sword Take thee things thou thought Till turned Vict village voice wait wall waves wigwam wild wind wonder woods young youth
Popular passages
Page 482 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.
Page 425 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought!
Page 369 - And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Page 414 - We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay ; By silence sanctifying, not concealing, The grief that must have way.
Page 425 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 370 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, "When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. Stars they are, wherein we read our history, As astrologers and seers of eld ; Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
Page 398 - All are scattered, now, and fled, — Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, "Ah! when shall they all meet again?
Page 396 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Page 432 - This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior ! At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice...
Page 432 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet ! Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse ! Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream.