All Poems
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Changed
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From the outskirts of the town,
Where of old the mile-stone stood,
Now a stranger, looking down
I behold the shadowy crown
Of the dark and haunted wood.
The Jewish Cemetery at Newport
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How strange it seems! These Hebrews in their graves,
Close by the street of this fair seaport town,
Silent beside the never-silent waves,
At rest in all this moving up and down!
Something Left Undone
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Labor with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits the rising of the sun.
The Occultation Of Orion
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I saw, as in a dream sublime,
The balance in the hand of Time.
O'er East and West its beam impended;
And day, with all its hours of light,
Carillon
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus dreamed I, as by night I lay
In Bruges, at the Fleur-de-Ble,
Listening with a wild delight
To the chimes that, through the night
Bang their changes from the Belfry
Of that quaint old Flemish city.
Holidays
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;--
Introduction To The Song Of Hiawatha
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Should you ask me,
whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
The Revenge of Rain-in-the-Face
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In that desolate land and lone,
Where the Big Horn and Yellowstone
Roar down their mountain path,
By their fires the Sioux Chiefs
Muttered their woes and griefs
And the menace of their wrath.
Birds Of Passage
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Black shadows fall
From the lindens tall,
That lift aloft their massive wall
Against the southern sky;
Voices Of the Night
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Pleasant it was, when woods were green,
And winds were soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene,
Where, the long drooping boughs between
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
Alternate come and go;
Moonlight
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As a pale phantom with a lamp
Ascends some ruin's haunted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.
Autumn Within
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about;
It is I that have grown old.
Hiawatha's Childhood
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Downward through the evening twilight,
In the days that are forgotten,
In the unremembered ages,
From the full moon fell Nokomis,
Christmas Bells
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
The Belfry Of Bruges
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown;
Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the
town.
Aftermath
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
Nuremberg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow-lands
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient,
stands.
Daylight and Moonlight
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In broad daylight, and at noon,
Yesterday I saw the moon
Sailing high, but faint and white,
As a schoolboy's paper kite.
To William E. Channing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The pages of thy book I read,
And as I closed each one,
My heart, responding, ever said,
"Servant of God! well done!"
Hymn of the Moravian Nuns of Bethlehem at the Consecration of Pulaski's Banner
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Take thy banner! and if e'er
Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier,
And the muffled drum should beat
To the tread of mournful feet,
Then this crimson flag shall be
Martial cloak and shroud for thee."
