Earlier Poems : Woods In Winter (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale,With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the ...
When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale,With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the ...
O Hemlock tree! O hemlock tree! how faithful are thy branches! Green not alone in summer time, But in the winter's frost ...
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, He, the handsome Yenadizze, Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, Vexed the village with disturbance; ...
Heard a voice, that cried, "Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!" And through the misty air Passed like the ...
You shall hear how Hiawatha Prayed and fasted in the forest, Not for greater skill in hunting, Not for greater ...
Oh the long and dreary Winter! Oh the cold and cruel Winter! Ever thicker, thicker, thicker Froze the ice on ...
Two good friends had Hiawatha, Singled out from all the others, Bound to him in closest union, And to whom ...
On the shores of Gitche Gumee, Of the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood Nokomis, the old woman, Pointing with her finger westward, ...
Can it be the sun descending O'er the level plain of water? Or the Red Swan floating, flying, Wounded by ...
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!" Cried the warriors, cried the old men, When he came in triumph homeward With the sacred ...
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer ...
Far and wide among the nations Spread the name and fame of Kwasind; No man dared to strive with Kwasind, ...
Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the happy days that followed, In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant ...
How strange it seems! These Hebrews in their graves, Close by the street of this fair seaport town, Silent beside ...
PRELUDE. Pleasant it was, when woods were green, And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene, ...
Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest With the ...
In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown; Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er ...
Downward through the evening twilight, In the days that are forgotten, In the unremembered ages, From the full moon fell ...
When the summer fields are mown, When the birds are fledged and flown, And the dry leaves strew the path; ...
On sunny slope and beechen swell, The shadowed light of evening fell; And, where the maple's leaf was brown, With ...
Welcome, my old friend, Welcome to a foreign fireside, While the sullen gales of autumn Shake the windows. The ungrateful ...
Pleasant it was, when woods were green, And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene. Where, ...
Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the mighty Omahas; Gloomy and dark as the driving cloud, whose name ...
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, ...
There is a quiet spirit in these woods, That dwells where'er the gentle south-wind blows; Where, underneath the white-thorn, in ...
When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, ...
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From ...
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