The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with explanatory notesG. Richards, 1903 |
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Page 3
... STOOD upon the hills , when heaven's wide arch Was glorious with the sun's returning march , And woods were brightened , and soft gales Went forth to kiss the sun - clad vales . The clouds were far beneath me ; -bathed in light , They ...
... STOOD upon the hills , when heaven's wide arch Was glorious with the sun's returning march , And woods were brightened , and soft gales Went forth to kiss the sun - clad vales . The clouds were far beneath me ; -bathed in light , They ...
Page 7
... stood in the last moon of flowers , And thirty snows had not yet shed Their glory on the warrior's head ; But , as the summer fruit decays , So died he in those naked days . A dark cloak of the roebuck's skin Covered the warrior , and ...
... stood in the last moon of flowers , And thirty snows had not yet shed Their glory on the warrior's head ; But , as the summer fruit decays , So died he in those naked days . A dark cloak of the roebuck's skin Covered the warrior , and ...
Page 13
... stood . Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft and blue , In long and sloping lines . And , falling on my weary brain ...
... stood . Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft and blue , In long and sloping lines . And , falling on my weary brain ...
Page 22
... pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague . Beside the Moldau's rushing stream , With the wan moon overhead , There stood , as in an awful dream , The army of the dead . White as a sea - fog , landward bound , 22 VOICES OF THE NIGHT.
... pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague . Beside the Moldau's rushing stream , With the wan moon overhead , There stood , as in an awful dream , The army of the dead . White as a sea - fog , landward bound , 22 VOICES OF THE NIGHT.
Page 33
... stood beside the helm , His pipe was in his mouth , And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West , now South . Then up and spake an old Sailòr , Had sailed the Spanish Main , 66 pray thee , put into yonder port , For ...
... stood beside the helm , His pipe was in his mouth , And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West , now South . Then up and spake an old Sailòr , Had sailed the Spanish Main , 66 pray thee , put into yonder port , For ...
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Common terms and phrases
Abbot Acadian Albrecht Dürer angel Balt beautiful behold BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath breath bright Bruges Carlos Charles the Bald child Chis Christ clouds Countess of Flanders CRUZADO dark dead death deep Don Carlos dream earth Elsie Evangeline evermore eyes face fear flowers forest Friar Cuthbert Gipsy gleam gold golden Gottlieb Grand-Pré Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven Hoheneck holy Hypolito labour land Lara light lips look loud Lucifer maiden meadows midnight Minnesinger monk moon morning mystery night o'er ocean Padre passed Pray prayer Preciosa priest Prince Henry rain rise river roar sail Saint sang seemed shadows shining ships silent singing sleep song sorrow soul sound spake stand star stood sweet thee Thou art thou hast thought unto Ursula Vict village voice walls wandered wave weary wild wind window words yonder youth
Popular passages
Page 268 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Page 33 - Last night the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see! " The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Page 269 - Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show, Strengthens and supports the rest.
Page 96 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 177 - Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal, Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings, Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when,...
Page 15 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
Page 18 - saith he ; " Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. " My Lord has need of these flowerets gay...
Page 30 - Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea, Soft eyes did gaze on me, Burning yet tender ; And as the white stars shine On the dark Norway pine, On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor.
Page 28 - SPEAK! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me ? " Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December ; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. " I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold, No...
Page 18 - And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies...