"Softly the evening came /with the sunset/."
"O ye dead Poets, who are living still Immortal in your verse, though life be fled, And ye, O living Poets, who are dead Though ye are living, if neglect can kill, Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill, With drops of anguish falling fast and red From the sharp crown of thorns upon your head, Ye were not glad your errand to fulfill?"
3 likes
Source: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2012). “Favorite Poems”, p.100, Courier Corporation
About the author
Same author
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years mere study of books."
"Behind the clouds is the sun still shining."
"Into each life some rain must fall."
"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."
"My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea"