He had mittens, Minjekahwun, Magic mittens made of deer-skin When upon his hands he wore them, He could smite the rocks asunder, He could grind them into powder
More Quotes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
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.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But noble souls, through dust and heat, Rise from disaster and defeat The stronger.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Build me straight, O worthy Master Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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