Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a 19th century educationist and poet from America, who penned some of the most memorable poems in the history of American literature. Other than being a poet of great repute; Longfellow was also an educationist, who was a professor at his alma mater Bowdoin College and latter at the Harvard College. Prior to taking up his position as a professor at Bowdoin College; he had also spent a considerable amount of time in Europe; which helped to shape his worldview. Some of his most famous works include ‘The Song of Haiwatha’, ‘Paul Revere’s Ride’ and ‘Evangaline’. On the other hand, he had also translated Dante’s seminal work ‘Divine Comedy’ to English. In addition to that, he also produced collections of poetry and the most well-known among them were ‘Ballads and Other Poems’ and ‘Voices of the Night’. Longfellow eventually decided to devote his entire time to literary pursuits in 1854 and gave up his position as professor. Most of his poems drew heavily from mythology and popular legends and he eventually became the most famous poet in the world at the time. Here are some of the quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow .Â
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained in sudden flight but, they while their companions slept, they were toiling upwards in the night.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think.
Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.
There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.
As Unto the bow the the cord is ,
So unto the man is woman;
Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him , yet she follows:
Useless each without the other.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.
Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the shdows of night
The world rolls into light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, our faith triumphant o’er our fears, are all with thee – are all with thee!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The nearer the dawn
the darker the night.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Not in the clamor of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great is the art of beginning.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
She floats upon the river of his thoughts.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I hear the wind among the trees playing the celestial symphonies.
In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the Gods are everywhere
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah! What would the world be to us
If the children were no more?
We should dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The morning pouring everywhere, its golden glory on the air.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
These are the woes of Slaves;
They glare from the abyss;
They cry, from unknown graves,
"We are the Witnesses!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To charm, to strengthen, and to teach: these are the three great chords of might.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Think of your woods and orchards without birds!
Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams
As in an idiot's brain remembered words
Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!
Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the child of Nature.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
