"They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more!"
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
685 quotes — follow a thought to its full quote page.
"They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more!"
"How in the turmoil of life can love stand, Where there is not one heart, and one mouth and one hand."
"A solid man of Boston; A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas."
"To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest, Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide, And tremble to be happy with the rest." And I make answer: "I am satisfied; I dare not ask; I know not what is best; God hath already said what shall betide."
"Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed."
"Races, better than we, have leaned on her wavering promise, Having naught else but Hope."
"Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice."
"For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter Of the Eternal's language; - on earth it is called Forgiveness!"
"Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thoughtful of others."
"My designs and labors and aspirations are my only friends."
"History casts its shadow far into the land of song."
"They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again."
"The prayer of Ajax was for light."
"Some poems are like the Centaurs--a mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud."
"I know not how it is, but during a voyage I collect books as a ship does barnacles."
"It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain."
"All the means of action -- the shapeless masses -- the materials -- lie everywhere about us. What we need is the celestial fire to change the flint into the transparent crystal, bright and clear. That fire is genius."
"What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?"
"Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen."
"Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. And crying havoc on the slug and snail."