Poems of Henry W. Longfellow: Including Evangeline, The Song of Hiawatha and the Courtship of Miles Standish; with Biographical Sketch and Explanatory Notes
Burt, 1901 - 347 pages
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
answer arms arrows beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright called changed close clouds comes dance dark dead death door dreams earth entered eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet fell fields fire flowers follow forest give gleam golden grave hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha HYPOLITO land LARA Laughing leaves light listen living look maiden meadow moon morning never night Nokomis o'er once passed Pray PRECIOSA rest rise river rose round rushing sail sang seemed shadows shining ships silent singing sleep soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stands stars stood strong sweet Take thee things thou thought Till trees unto VICTORIAN village voice waited walls wander waves wild wind young youth
Page 294 - THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in its flight.
Page 36 - She was a Prince's child, I but a Viking wild, And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded! Should not the dove so white Follow the sea-mew's flight ? Why did they leave that night Her nest unguarded ? "Scarce had I put to sea, Bearing the maid with me, — Fairest of all was she Among the Norsemen!
Page 57 - Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest ; List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. PART THE FIRST I. IN the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, Distant, secluded, still, the little village of GrandPre Lay in the fruitful valley.
Page 35 - SPEAK ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms. Why dost thou haunt me ? " Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. " I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold, No Skald in song...
Page 286 - 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!
Page 286 - The tumult of each sacked and burning village ; The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns ; The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage ; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns ; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade ; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade.
Page 223 - 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 4 - Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall ; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door ; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...