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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems


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

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