A Selection from the Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowWard, Lock & Bowden, Limited, 1889 - 220 pages |
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Page 29
... round his ankles , When upon his feet he tied them , At each stride a mile he measured ! Much he questioned old Nokomis Of his father Mudjekeewis ; Learned from her the fatal secret Of the beauty of his mother , Of the falsehood of his ...
... round his ankles , When upon his feet he tied them , At each stride a mile he measured ! Much he questioned old Nokomis Of his father Mudjekeewis ; Learned from her the fatal secret Of the beauty of his mother , Of the falsehood of his ...
Page 54
... round the fire in the common room of the inn in Sudbury , like Chaucer's pilgrims at the famous " Tabard " in Southwark . Like Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrims , too , these are separately described by the poet , and each of them , includ ...
... round the fire in the common room of the inn in Sudbury , like Chaucer's pilgrims at the famous " Tabard " in Southwark . Like Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrims , too , these are separately described by the poet , and each of them , includ ...
Page 63
... round the barren oak , The summer vine in beauty clung , And summer winds the stillness broke , The crystal icicle is hung . Where , from their frozen urns , mute springs Pour out the river's gradual tide , Shrilly the skater's iron ...
... round the barren oak , The summer vine in beauty clung , And summer winds the stillness broke , The crystal icicle is hung . Where , from their frozen urns , mute springs Pour out the river's gradual tide , Shrilly the skater's iron ...
Page 65
... round the ghastly fight , If the vanquished warrior bow , Spare him ! -By our holy vow , By our prayers and many tears , By the mercy that endears , Spare him ! -he our love hath shared ! Spare HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW , 65.
... round the ghastly fight , If the vanquished warrior bow , Spare him ! -By our holy vow , By our prayers and many tears , By the mercy that endears , Spare him ! -he our love hath shared ! Spare HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW , 65.
Page 82
... round the Gothic spire , Screamed the feathered Minnesingers For the children of the choir . Time has long effaced the inscriptions On the cloister's funeral stones , And tradition only tells us Where repose the poet's bones . But ...
... round the Gothic spire , Screamed the feathered Minnesingers For the children of the choir . Time has long effaced the inscriptions On the cloister's funeral stones , And tradition only tells us Where repose the poet's bones . But ...
Common terms and phrases
ancient Angel answered arms beautiful beheld bell beneath birds breath Captain close comes cried dark dead Death door dream dust earth eyes face fair fall father fear feeling feet fields flowers gave give golden grave hall hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy hope hour Italy John King labour land Laughing leaves legends light lips Listen living looked loud maiden Miles Standish moon morning never night o'er once passed peace poem poet prayer Priscilla rain rest rise rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadow ship shore silent singing sleep song sorrow soul sound speak stands stood street strong Take tears thee things thou thought toil town turned village voice wait walls wave wild winds youth
Popular passages
Page 78 - 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 141 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 99 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Page 70 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Page 214 - 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 87 - Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be! For gentleness and love and trust Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives!
Page 68 - 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 88 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; ,Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar. In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee...
Page 102 - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! "Try not the pass!
Page 7 - Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside, Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses!