Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

The Cross Of Snow - Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face -- the face of one long dead --
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died; and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changingscenes


And seasons, changeless since the day she died.


Comments about The Cross Of Snow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  • (1/29/2015 7:58:00 AM)


    Death of a near one is always painful. When it relates to the better half the sadness is more and here the poet writes the poem in extreme sadness and it is great. (Report) Reply

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  • (6/15/2008 8:41:00 PM)


    I love this sad poem, it really reflects the love of the poet for his dead wife, whom he will remember and love forever. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: snow, fire, night, sun, light



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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