Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“Music is the universal language of mankind.”

“Oh, fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong,— Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.”

“The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.”

“No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.”

“For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest!”

“Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.”

“The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.”

“A feeling of sadness and longing That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.”

“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.”

“The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.”

“In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere.”

“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.”

“The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books.”

“Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing Learn to labor and to wait.”

“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.”

“And though at times impetuous with emotion And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, That cannot be at rest,— We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay; By silence sanctifying, not concealing, The grief that must have way.”

“Oh, though oft depressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died!”

“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.”

“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!”

“For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build.”

“Nor deem the irrevocable Past, As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.”

“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.”

“The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls.”

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”

“There groups of merry children played, There youths and maidens dreaming strayed; O precious hours! O golden prime, And affluence of love and time! Even as a Miser counts his gold, Those hours the ancient timepiece told,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!"”

“My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary.”

“It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.”

“The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky.”

“There is no light in earth or heaven But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars.”

“O star of strength! I see thee stand And smile upon my pain; Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand, And I am strong again.”

“The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between.”

“I saw, as in a dream sublime, The balance in the hand of Time. O'er East and West its beam impended; And day, with all its hours of light, Was slowly sinking out of sight, While, opposite, the scale of night Silently with the stars ascended.”

“Beneath the sky's triumphal arch This music sounded like a march, And with its chorus seemed to be Preluding some great tragedy. Sirius was rising in the east; And, slow ascending one by one, The kindling constellations shone. Begirt with many a blazing star, Stood the great giant Algebar, Orion, hunter of the beast! His sword hung gleaming by his side, And, on his arm, the lion's hide Scattered across the midnight air The golden radiance of its hair.”

“The moon was pallid, but not faint; And beautiful as some fair saint, Serenely moving on her way In hours of trial and dismay. As if she heard the voice of God, Unharmed with naked feet she trod Upon the hot and burning stars, As on the glowing coals and bars, That were to prove her strength, and try Her holiness and her purity.”

“The moon and its broken reflection And its shadows shall appear, As the symbol of love in heaven, And its wavering image here.”

“These perturbations, this perpetual jar Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star, An undiscovered planet in our sky.”

“In broad daylight, and at noon, Yesterday I saw the moon Sailing high, but faint and white, As a school-boy's paper kite.”

“Then the moon, in all her pride, Like a spirit glorified, Filled and overflowed the night With revelations of her light.”

“When I look from my window at night, And the welkin above is all white, All throbbing and panting with stars, Among them majestic is standing Sandalphon the angel, expanding His pinions in nebulous bars.”

“Were a star quenched on high, For ages would its light, Still travelling downward from the sky, Shine on our mortal sight.”

“As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin's haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp Mysterious chambers of the air.”