Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(27 February 1807 – 24 March 1882 / Portland, Maine)

Comments about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  • Peter the poet (age of 13) (4/14/2018 8:34:00 AM)

    His my favorite poet.
    ccI love his poets because it is fun, and because he worked very diligently in his life.
    I'm now doing research paper about him.
    I'm finding many interesting things about him.
    I wish

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Peter the poet (age of 13) (4/14/2018 8:30:00 AM)

    His my favorite poet.
    ccI love his poets because it is fun, and because he worked very diligently in his life.
    I'm now doing research paper about him.
    I'm finding many interesting things about him.
    I wish other people would know about him......
    His the greatest poet in the world.
    I never knew that he was a great man until I began to research about it.
    I again wish that he could be known throughout the world.

  • makayla (4/4/2018 10:37:00 AM)

    hello in doing a project on him and im intrested does enyone know some facts..

  • joe randy guy (3/28/2018 1:45:00 PM)

    yall, i like this here poet because when i read hims poems they make fell all happys insides my body.

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  • Sewak ram sahu (2/19/2018 8:36:00 AM)

    My fewarate poem

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  • Ndaiga Ngatia Ndaiga Ngatia (2/13/2018 2:31:00 PM)

    A kind of fellow you have to like.

  • kenzie (1/20/2018 9:38:00 AM)

    he is related to me
    he is a great poet

  • bootyeater42069 (11/13/2017 9:21:00 PM)

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Best Poem of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A Psalm Of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the ...

Read the full of A Psalm Of Life

My Lost Youth

Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

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