Search results
But what are Longfellow’s very best poems? Some poems immediately spring to mind, such as The Song of Hiawatha, but Longfellow was a prolific poet who wrote a great deal of great poems, not all of which are as well-known. Below, we pick – and discuss – ten of Longfellow’s greatest poems.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882) was an American poet and educator. His original works include the poems "Paul Revere's Ride", "The Song of Hiawatha", and "Evangeline". He was the first American to completely translate Dante Alighieri 's Divine Comedy and was one of the fireside poets from New England.
A Psalm of Life. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest!
Paul Revere’s Ride. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 1807 –. 1882. Listen, my children, and you shall hear. Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five: Hardly a man is now alive. Who remembers that famous day and year.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 1807 –. 1882. Read poems by this poet. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine—then still part of Massachusetts—on February 27, 1807, the second son in a family of eight children. His mother, Zilpah Wadsworth, was the daughter of a Revolutionary War hero.
The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown. The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The Wreck of the Hesperus. By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughtèr, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.
Searches related to henry wadsworth longfellow poems
