Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem by Dennis Lange

I hear heaped praise, like waves upon the shore,
And in its falling, hints to me of more -
Of gods who disagree, a distant thunder.
All I can do is read... and read - in wonder!

It's straight when carpenter has found his line,
Then varies naught from what's both true and fine.
Longfellow, too, laid down the plumb and chalked it,
Then word by word and rhyme by rhyme, he walked it.

So often did his heart leap to his throat!
So many memorable lines we know and quote!
For his poetic gift and gait, we're grateful.
Why thus must others be so mean and hateful?

A critic's dab, but people's love - deluge.
When all love Christmas, what think we of Scrooge?
The critics cannot write; they fire a mortar.
It's pencil envy; theirs is so much shorter.