Truly, this world can go on without us, if we would but think so. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow More Quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow More Quotes From Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow rainspringlove The bravest are the tenderest. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow But ah! what once has been shall be no more! The groaning earth in travail and in pain Brings forth its races, but does not restore, And the dead nations never rise again. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow painracedoe Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest of all the arts. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow architectarchitectureart By unseen hands uplifted in the light Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad, And wafted up to heaven. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sunsetlightclouds Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow, See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the magnet; This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has planted Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's journey. Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert, Such in the soul of man is faith. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow flowerjourneymen By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow seasummermorning The heaven of poetry and romance still lies around us and within us. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow romanceheavenlying I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow arrowsearthair Then stars arise, and the night is holy. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow holystarsnight Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow songbeautifulpeace O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow belovedtrustjourney The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they keep The long, mysterious Exodus of Death. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow dustsleepwind Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars, Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul, Skoal! to the Northland! skoal! Thus the tale ended. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow warriorstarssoul All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wallfatedeeds All things are symbols: the external shows Of Nature have their image in the mind , As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow natureflowerfall Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow gardeningreligionthinking Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind, Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, To the Land of the Hereafter! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sunsetblessedhome Books are sepulchres of thought. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow book The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow prayerlawteacher
