Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems

321. In The Harbour: The Children's Crusade 3/30/2010
322. Garfield 3/30/2010
323. In The Harbour: The City And The Sea 3/30/2010
324. To An Old Danish Song-Book 12/31/2002
325. Voices Of The Night : A Psalm Of Life 3/30/2010
326. The Two Rivers 3/30/2010
327. The Two Angels. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) 3/30/2010
328. Cadenabbia. Lake Of Como. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth) 3/30/2010
329. In The Harbour: A Fragment 3/30/2010
330. By The Fireside : Sand Of The Desert In An Hour-Glass 3/30/2010
331. By The Seaside : The Evening Star 3/30/2010
332. In The Harbour: Decoration Day 3/30/2010
333. Hymn For My Brother's Ordination 3/30/2010
334. The Three Silences Of Molinos 3/30/2010
335. In The Harbour: Moonlight 3/30/2010
336. In The Harbour: Chimes 3/30/2010
337. Coplas De Manrique (From The Spanish) 3/30/2010
338. Evangeline: Part The Second. Iii. 3/30/2010
339. Song 3/30/2010
340. In The Habour: Victor And Vanquished 3/30/2010
341. In The Harbour: Becalmed 3/30/2010
342. Flower-De-Luce: Palingenesis 3/30/2010
343. Mad River, In The White Mountains 3/30/2010
344. In The Harbour: From The French 3/30/2010
345. In The Churchyard At Cambridge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) 3/30/2010
346. Weariness. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Second) 3/30/2010
347. In The Harbour: A Quiet Life. (From The French) 3/30/2010
348. By The Fireside : The Open Window 3/30/2010
349. Earlier Poems : Sunrise On The Hills 3/30/2010
350. By The Seaside : Twilight 3/30/2010
351. Remorse. (From August Von Platen) 3/30/2010
352. Il Ponte Vecchio Di Firenze 3/30/2010
353. In The Harbour: Auf Wiedersehen 3/30/2010
354. Evangeline: Part The First. Iv. 3/30/2010
355. In The Harbour: Four By The Clock 3/30/2010
356. Old Age. (Sonnet Iv.) 3/30/2010
357. The Meeting 1/3/2003
358. In The Harbour: Loss And Gain 3/30/2010
359. Fire. (Sonnet Ii.) 3/30/2010
360. Sleep 3/30/2010

Comments about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  • Daniel De Villa (1/19/2014 4:47:00 AM)

    He's my favorite poet. The Psalm of Life is one of my favorite poems and is also one of the first poems I read.

    63 person liked.
    97 person did not like.
  • Sj Holland Sj Holland (7/4/2013 5:42:00 PM)

    How sorrowful the story about Fanny's death and Longfellow's subsequent depression. He penned beautiful poetry while suffering emotionally long after her passing.

  • Calico Jack Calico Jack (4/20/2012 1:03:00 PM)

    Force rules the world still,
    Has ruled it, shall rule it;
    Meekness is weakness,
    Strength is triumphant,
    Over the whole earth
    Still is it Thor's-Day!

    from the Saga of King Olaf
    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    No its Friday!

  • Sam Jones (12/21/2009 9:44:00 AM)

    OMG! His poems r awesome, but i heard this poem called Sam Jones, Conqueror of the World! It's awesome. Read it and vote it a 10! ! !

  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/18/2006 1:20:00 PM)

    I like W.Longfellow's poems, some of them are really good.

  • Shinobu Wray (6/18/2005 11:05:00 PM)

    I wonder if the song that neil diamond wrote has any connection between his last name

  • Sex Hamster (4/1/2005 1:51:00 PM)

    I love Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, his poems are so beautiful. They Rock! ! espesially 'the psalm of life'

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


Oft I remember those I have known
In other days, to whom my heart was lead
As by a magnet, and who are not dead,
But absent, and their memories overgrown
With other thoughts and troubles of my own,
As graves with grasses are, and at their head
The stone with moss and lichens so o'er spread,
Nothing is legible but the name alone.
And is it so with them? After long years.

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