"O summer day beside the joyous sea! O summer day so wonderful and white, So full of gladness and so full of pain! Forever and forever shalt thou be To some the gravestone of a dead delight, To some the landmark of a new domain."
Poet, Educator
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a renowned American poet known for his lyrical verses and works like 'The Song of Hiawatha,' which explore themes of love and nature.
Quote collection
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"O summer day beside the joyous sea! O summer day so wonderful and white, So full of gladness and so full of pain! Forever and forever shalt thou be To some the gravestone of a dead delight, To some the landmark of a new domain."
"Beautiful in form and feature, lovely as the day, can there be so fair a creature formed of common clay?"
"Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations."
"All that is best in the great poets of all countries is not what is national in them, but what is universal."
"Every human heart is human."
"All things come round to him who will but wait."
"The everyday cares and duties, which men call drudgery, are the weights and counterpoises of the clock of time, giving its pendulum a true vibration and its hands a regular motion; and when they cease to hang upon its wheels, the pendulum no longer swings, the hands no longer move the clock stands still."
"Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed To have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads."
"In the lives of the saddest of us, there are bright days like this, when we feel as if we could take the great world in our arms and kiss it. Then come the gloomy hours, when the fire will neither burn on our hearths nor in our hearts; and all without and within is dismal, cold, and dark. Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad."
"Nothing that is can pause or stay; / The moon will wax, the moon will wane, / The mist and cloud will turn to rain, / The rain to mist and cloud again, / Tomorrow be today."
"There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death."
"Many readers judge of the power of a book by the shock it gives their feelings - as some savage tribes determine the power of muskets by their recoil; that being considered best which fairly prostrates the purchaser."
"The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy."
"Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it; the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves."
"Doubtless criticism was originally benignant, pointing out the beauties of a work rather that its defects. The passions of men have made it malignant, as a bad heart of Procreates turned the bed, the symbol of repose, into an instrument of torture."
"It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves."
"Welcome, Disappointment! Thy hand is cold and hard, but it is the hand of a friend. Thy voice is stern and harsh, but it is the voice of a friend. Oh, there is something sublime in calm endurance, something sublime in the resolute, fixed purpose of suffering without complaining, which makes disappointment oftentimes better than success!"
"Time is the life of the soul."
"It is autumn; not without But within me is the cold. Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old."
"Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again."