Poems by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine,
Apparelled in ma...

NO HAY PÁ JAROS EN LOS NIDOS DE ANTAÑ O.
--Spanish Proverb The sun is bright, --t...

I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skir...

THAT SHALL NOT BE TAKEN AWAY. She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side,
In valleys green and cool;
...

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls
The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just;
It co...

Filled is Life's goblet to the brim;
And though my eyes with tears are dim,
I see its sparkli...

This is the place. Stand still, my steed,
Let me review the scene,
And summon from the shado...

By his evening fire the artist
Pondered o'er his secret shame;
Baffled, weary, and dishearte...

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When h...

AT THE CONSECRATION OF PULASKI'S BANNER. When the dying flame of day
Through the chancel shot i...

The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead. Th...

When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to vis...

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, ...

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling,
Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;
But ...

With what a glory comes and goes the year!
The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers
Of s...