The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowG. Routledge & Company, 1855 - 432 pages |
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... Midnight Mass for the Dying Year The Skeleton in Armour The Wreck of the Hesperus POEMS ON SLAVERY : - To William E. Channing 86 88 91 97 101 The Slave's Dream • 102 The Good Part that shall not be taken away 103 The Slave in the Dismal ...
... Midnight Mass for the Dying Year The Skeleton in Armour The Wreck of the Hesperus POEMS ON SLAVERY : - To William E. Channing 86 88 91 97 101 The Slave's Dream • 102 The Good Part that shall not be taken away 103 The Slave in the Dismal ...
Page 43
... midnight streams , blew a blast on his bugle . Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang , Breaking the seal of silence , and giving tongues to the forest . Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred ...
... midnight streams , blew a blast on his bugle . Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang , Breaking the seal of silence , and giving tongues to the forest . Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred ...
Page 44
... midnight toil , the weary travellers slum- bered . Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar . Swinging from its great arms , the trumpet - flower and the grape - vine Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob ...
... midnight toil , the weary travellers slum- bered . Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar . Swinging from its great arms , the trumpet - flower and the grape - vine Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob ...
Page 77
... heard the sounds of sorrow and delight , The manifold soft chimes , That fill the haunted chambers of the Night , Like some old poet's rhymes . From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit HYMN TO THE NIGHT . 77 Hymn to the Night.
... heard the sounds of sorrow and delight , The manifold soft chimes , That fill the haunted chambers of the Night , Like some old poet's rhymes . From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit HYMN TO THE NIGHT . 77 Hymn to the Night.
Page 78
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose ; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there , - From those deep cisterns flows . O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose ; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there , - From those deep cisterns flows . O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian angel arms art thou BALTASAR BARTOLOMÉ Basil beautiful behold blessed blossom bosom breath bride bright brooklet cachucha CHISPA clouds Count of Lara CRUZADO dance dark dead death descended DON CARLOS Don Dinero Dost thou dream earth Edenhall Enter Evangeline eyes face fair father fear flowers forest Gabriel Gipsy gleamed golden Grand-Pré grave hand hear heard heart heaven holy HYPOLITO JORGE MANRIQUE ladder of Jacob land leaves light lips look loud maiden meadows midnight moon morning night o'er PADRE CURA passed PEDRO CRESPO Pray prayer PRECIOSA priest red planet Mars river rose Saint sang SCENE shadow shalt shining silent singing sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spake speak spirit stars stood sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou art thought Timoneda unto VICTORIAN village voice wait wander wave weary whispered wild wind words
Popular passages
Page 306 - Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. 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.
Page 1 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 346 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Page 78 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 98 - Last night the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Page 339 - Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy lips, the smile of truth. Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; And that smile, like sunshine, dart Into many a sunless heart, For a smile of God thou art.
Page 402 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child. But a fair maiden in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful, with all the soul's expansion, Shall we behold her face.
Page 88 - And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, Flows the River of Life between. No other voice, nor sound is there, In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air, But the rushing of Life's wave. And, when the solemn and deep church-bell Entreats the soul to pray, The midnight phantoms feel the spell, The shadows sweep away. Down the broad Vale of Tears afar The spectral camp is fled ; Faith shineth as a morning star, Our ghastly fears are dead.
Page 315 - 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 315 - 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, 1 knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong.