Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems
|523.||An April Day||12/31/2002|
|525.||I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day||1/3/2004|
|526.||Footsteps Of Angels||12/31/2002|
|527.||The Arrow And The Song||12/31/2002|
|528.||A Gleam Of Sunshine||12/31/2002|
|529.||A Psalm Of Life||12/31/2002|
A Gleam Of Sunshine
This is the place. Stand still, my steed,
Let me review the scene,
And summon from the shadowy Past
The forms that once have been.
The Past and Present here unite
Beneath Time's flowing tide,
Like footprints hidden by a brook,
But seen on either side.
Here runs the highway to the town;
There the green lane descends,
Through which I walked to church with thee,
O gentlest of my friends!
The shadow of the linden-trees
Lay moving on the grass;
Between them and the moving boughs,
A shadow, thou didst pass.
Thy dress ...
The Belfrey Of Bruges
In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfrey old and brown;
Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the town.
As the summer morn was breaking, on that lofty tower I stood,
And the world through off the darkness, like the weeds of widowhood.
Thick with towns and hamlets studded, and with streams and vapors gray,
Like a shield embossed with silver, round and vast the landscape lay.