The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: With Bibliographical and Critical Notes, Volume 6

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1890

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Page 258 - INTO the Silent Land ! Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither, oh, thither, Into the Silent Land?
Page 256 - I KNOW a maiden fair to see, Take care ! She can both false and friendly be, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not. She is fooling thee ! She has two eyes, so soft and brown, Take care ! She gives a side-glance and looks down, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not, She ifl fooling thee ! And she has hair of a golden hue, Take care ! And what she says, it is not true, Beware ! Beware ! Trunt her not, She is fooling thee ! She has a bosom as white as snow, Take care ! She knows how much it is best to show.
Page 256 - The winds and the waves of ocean, Had they a merry chime ? Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers, The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ? ' " ' The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly ; But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, And tears came to mine eye.
Page 268 - THOU that from the heavens art. Every pain and sorrow stillest, And the doubly wretched heart Doubly with refreshment fillest, I am weary with contending ! Why this rapture and unrest ? Peace descending Come, ah, come into my breast ! II.
Page 427 - How beautiful the long mild twilight, which, like a silver clasp, unites to-day with yesterday! How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight...
Page 129 - ... also when they shall be afraid of that which is high and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish and the grass-hopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail : because man goeth to his long home and the mourners go about the streets...
Page 264 - Joy and Temperance and Repose, Slam the door on the doctor's nose. I SIN. Manlike is it to fall into sin. Fiend-like is it to dwell therein, Christ-like is it for sin to grieve, God-like is it all sin to leave.
Page 256 - And fain it would stoop downward To the mirrored wave below ; And fain it would soar upward In the evening's ciimsoii glow." " Well have I seen that castle, That Castle by the Sea, And the moon above it standing, And the mist rise solemnly.
Page 462 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 366 - Ah, to build, to build ! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, Are merely shadows cast by outward things On stone or canvas, having in themselves No separate existence. Architecture, Existing in itself, and not in seeming A something it is not, surpasses them As substance shadow.

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