The Complete Poetical Works of Longfellow1922 |
Contents
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Other editions - View all
The Complete Poetical Works Longfellow (Classic Reprint) Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2017 |
Common terms and phrases
Acadian art thou beautiful behold bells beneath birds breath bright Chispa CHRISTUS cloud COREY dark dead death dream earth ENDICOTT EPIMETHEUS Evangeline eyes face fair father feet fire flowers forest Giles Corey gleam golden Golden Legend Gypsy hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven HEPHÆSTUS Hiawatha holy JOHN ENDICOTT Kenabeek King land Lara Laughing leaves light listen Longfellow look Lord loud LUCIFER maiden MANAHEM meadow merry MICHAEL ANGELO Mondamin moon morning never night Nokomis o'er Osseo passed Pau-Puk-Keewis PHARISEES poem poet pray prayer Prec PRINCE HENRY river round sail sang SCENE shadow shining silent singing sleep song Song of Hiawatha soul sound spake speak stars stood sunshine sweet thee thine thou art thought TITUBA unto Vict village VITTORIA COLONNA voice walls wampum wigwam wild wind wonder words youth
Popular passages
Page 14 - She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared! 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. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw...
Page 13 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old Sailor, Had sailed the Spanish Main, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane. "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!
Page 65 - For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And tonight I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then...
Page 211 - So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore ! For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
Page 3 - 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. » In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle ; Be a hero in the strife ! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant ! Let the dead Past bury its dead ! Act, — act in the living Present ! Heart within, and God o'erhead ! /!Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind...
Page 19 - Try not the Pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! "Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!" A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered, with a sigh, Excelsior! "Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche!
Page 102 - The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, • His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast.
Page 203 - ... me ; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine ! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all ! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart.
Page 3 - Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; '° But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. 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. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! *> Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in...
Page 209 - Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventyfive ; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, " If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country-folk to be up and to arm.