Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems Home Poems Poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems Paul Revere's Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Listen, my children, and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,” A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Tell me not, in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!” The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Under a spreading chestnut-treeThe village smithy stands;” The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “I shot an arrow into the air,It fell to earth, I knew not where;” Memories by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Oft I remember those whom I have known In other days, to whom my heart was led Sundown by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The summer sun is sinking low; Only the tree-tops redden and glow: The Sermon of St. Francis by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Up soared the lark into the air, A shaft of song, a wingéd prayer, The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The Light of Stars by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Inscription on the Shanklin Fountain by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow O traveller, stay thy weary feet; Drink of this fountain, pure and sweet; Loss and Gain by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow When I compare What I have lost with what I have gained, Woods in Winter by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, The Reaper and the Flowers by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen,