Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Flower Poems

I lay upon the headland-height, and listened
To the incessant sobbing of the sea
In caverns under me,
...

'Tis late at night, and in the realm of sleep
My little lambs are folded like the flocks;
From room to room I hear the wakeful clocks
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He is dead, the beautiful youth,
The heart of honor, the tongue of truth,
He, the life and light of us all,
...

Burn, O evening hearth, and waken
Pleasant visions, as of old!
Though the house by winds be shaken,
Safe I keep this room of gold!
...

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
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See, the fire is sinking low,
Dusky red the embers glow,
While above them still I cower,
While a moment more I linger,
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How beautiful it was, that one bright day
In the long week of rain!
Though all its splendor could not chase away


The ...
...

How many lives, made beautiful and sweet
By self-devotion and by self-restraint,
Whose pleasure is to run without complaint
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O curfew of the setting sun! O Bells of Lynn!
O requiem of the dying day! O Bells of Lynn!
...

I.
Oft have I seen at some cathedral door
A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat,
Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet
...