Hans Christian Andersen

(2 April 1805 – 4 August 1875 / Odense)

Hans Christian Andersen Poems

281. Foran I Et Exemplar Af,,Eventyr 7/2/2012
282. Forhæng For Vignetterne 7/2/2012
283. Fortrøstning 7/2/2012
284. Fra Min Reise I Foraaret 1872 7/2/2012
285. Fra Qvirinalhaven 7/2/2012
286. Fra Vesterhavets Lande 7/2/2012
287. Fremad! 7/2/2012
288. Fremsagt Af Hr. Ch. Schmidt Ved Hans Sommerforestilling I Casino 1853 7/2/2012
289. Friskt Skyder Hverdagslivet Sine Ranker 7/2/2012
290. Fru Bournonville 7/2/2012
291. Fru Grove, Født Fenger 7/2/2012
292. Fru O'Neill 7/2/2012
293. Fru V. Beskov 7/2/2012
294. Frøken Christy Hohlenberg 7/2/2012
295. Fyen 7/2/2012
296. Fædrelandet 7/2/2012
297. Gamle Gunhild Fra Barselstuen 7/2/2012
298. Gefion 7/2/2012
299. Georg Carstensen 7/2/2012
300. Giv Af Dit Hjerte Til Folk Og Til Slægt 7/2/2012
301. Gjengangerbrevenes Forfatter 7/2/2012
302. Gjør Ægteskabs Tilbud I Dags-Avisen 7/2/2012
303. Granattræ, Citrontræ, — Ja Slige Høibaarne 7/2/2012
304. Granattræet 7/2/2012
305. Grev Joachim Moltke-Bregentved 7/2/2012
306. Grønne Flod, Du Strømmer Sorgfuld 7/2/2012
307. Lille Sally, Her Er Brev 7/3/2012
308. Lille Viggo 7/3/2012
309. Livet En Drøm 7/3/2012
310. Louise Ipsen Og C. St. A. Bille 7/3/2012
311. Luftaanden 7/3/2012
312. Lundby 7/3/2012
313. Længsel Med Potterne 7/3/2012
314. L. C. Sander 7/3/2012
315. L. Holberg 7/3/2012
316. L. Kruse 7/3/2012
317. Langelandsk Folkemelodi 7/3/2012
318. Malerie Fra Jyllands Vestkyst 7/3/2012
319. Man Finder Det Passende, Finder Det Smukt 7/3/2012
320. Man Siger, At I Spanien Qvinden 7/3/2012
Best Poem of Hans Christian Andersen

From The Philosopher’s Stone

Now she heard the following words sadly sung,—

“Life is a shadow that flits away
In a night of darkness and woe.”

But then would follow brighter thoughts:

“Life has the rose’s sweet perfume
With sunshine, light, and joy.”

And if one stanza sounded painfully—

“Each mortal thinks of himself alone,
Is a truth, alas, too clearly known;”

Then, on the other hand, came the answer—

“Love, like a mighty flowing stream,
Fills every heart with its radiant gleam.”

She heard, indeed, such words as these—

“In the pretty ...

Read the full of From The Philosopher’s Stone

The Dying Child

Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.

Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.

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