Blog on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
Three Poems by Longfellow…
- The Day is Done
-- BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
******
- The Arrow and the Song
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
*******
- Aftermath
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
With the cawing of the crow,
Once again the fields we mow
And gather in the aftermath.
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers
Is this harvesting of ours;
Not the upland clover bloom;
But the rowen mixed with weeds,
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,
Where the poppy drops its seeds
In the silence and the gloom.
*******
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Wadsworth_Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron in 1868
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron in 1868
Born February 27, 1807
Portland, Maine, U.S.
Died March 24, 1882 (aged 75)
Cambridge, Massachusetts, U.S.
Occupation Poet
Professor
Alma mater Bowdoin College
Spouses Mary Storer Potter
Frances Elizabeth Appleton
Children Charles Appleton Longfellow
Ernest Wadsworth Longfellow
Fanny Longfellow
Alice Mary Longfellow
Edith Longfellow
Anne Allegra Longfellow
Signature
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882) was an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. He was the first American to translate Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy and was one of the Fireside Poets from New England.
Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, which was then still part of Massachusetts. He studied at Bowdoin College and became a professor at Bowdoin and later at Harvard College after spending time in Europe. His first major poetry collections were Voices of the Night (1839) and Ballads and Other Poems (1841). He retired from teaching in 1854 to focus on his writing, and he lived the remainder of his life in the Revolutionary War headquarters of George Washington in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His first wife Mary Potter died in 1835 after a miscarriage. His second wife Frances Appleton died in 1861 after sustaining burns when her dress caught fire. After her death, Longfellow had difficulty writing poetry for a time and focused on translating works from foreign languages. He died in 1882.
Longfellow wrote many lyric poems known for their musicality and often presenting stories of mythology and legend. He became the most popular American poet of his day and had success overseas. He has been criticized by some, however, for imitating European styles and writing specifically for the masses.
Birthplace of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Portland, Maine, c. 1910; the house was demolished in 1955.
Longfellow was born on February 27, 1807, to Stephen Longfellow and Zilpah (Wadsworth) Longfellow in Portland, Maine,[1] then a district of Massachusetts.[2] He grew up in what is now known as the Wadsworth-Longfellow House. His father was a lawyer, and his maternal grandfather was Peleg Wadsworth, a general in the American Revolutionary War and a Member of Congress.[3] His mother was descended from Richard Warren, a passenger on the Mayflower.[4] He was named after his mother's brother Henry Wadsworth, a Navy lieutenant who had died three years earlier at the Battle of Tripoli.[5] He was the second of eight children.[6]
Longfellow was descended from English colonists who settled in New England in the early 1600s.[7] They included Mayflower Pilgrims Richard Warren, William Brewster, and John and Priscilla Alden through their daughter Elizabeth Pabodie, the first child born in Plymouth Colony.[8]
Longfellow attended a dame school at the age of three and was enrolled by age six at the private Portland Academy. In his years there, he earned a reputation as being very studious and became fluent in Latin.[9] His mother encouraged his enthusiasm for reading and learning, introducing him to Robinson Crusoe and Don Quixote.[10] He published his first poem in the Portland Gazette on November 17, 1820, a patriotic and historical four-stanza poem called "The Battle of Lovell's Pond".[11] He studied at the Portland Academy until age 14. He spent much of his summers as a child at his grandfather Peleg's farm in Hiram, Maine.
In the fall of 1822, 15 year-old Longfellow enrolled at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine, along with his brother Stephen.[9] His grandfather was a founder of the college[12] and his father was a trustee.[9] There Longfellow met Nathaniel Hawthorne who became his lifelong friend.[13] He boarded with a clergyman for a time before rooming on the third floor[14] in 1823 of what is now known as Winthrop Hall.[15] He joined the Peucinian Society, a group of students with Federalist leanings.[16] In his senior year, Longfellow wrote to his father about his aspirations
(Much more information at link given above .. Robert)
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2.
https://interestingliterature.com/2019/11/the-best-henry-wadsworth-longfellow-poems-everyone-should-read/
LITERATURE
The Best Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems Everyone Should Read
The best Longfellow poems
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was one of the most popular and influential American poets of the nineteenth century. Longfellow (1807-82) is best-known for The Song of Hiawatha, and for growing a beard to hide the marks of a family tragedy, but he also wrote many other celebrated poems. 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
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Three Tribute poems-- composed by me,
For Longfellow blog….
(1.)
Glory Of Faith's Triumphant Golden Crowns
The rays of morn took their first golden breath
Dispersing powers of night's darkling mists
First gleams romancing sweet the earthen shores
Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists
Demanding night accept its coming death!
Triumphant crowns!
Dawn's first yawning, a parade of new dreams
Waking Fate and its ever growing lists
With dancing echoes of showers to fall
Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists
Birthing flowers born from resplendent streams!
Triumphant crowns!
Sweet the softest callings of better days
With man rising to earn his daily bread
And Nature singing true to cheer life's all
Earth no longer mourning yesterday's dead
Future hope setting sail as sunbeams play!
Triumphant crowns!
Humanity follows its usual course
While bright blue-set skies rejoice overhead
Teeming hordes traversing their daily treks
Across well-worn pathways from life well fed
Amidst the carnage of loss and remorse!
Triumphant crowns!
Father Time speaks demanding to be heard
Above the din of crowds surging about
Commanding its fleeing hours to obey
Sternly obeyed were its arrogant shouts
And the infinite powers of each word!
Triumphant crowns!
Sun was setting, its daily chores all done
Mortals noted the rapid fleeing light
All had felt the ever changing new course
Some with increasing joy, others with fright
Dark shadows arose screaming lets have fun!
Triumphant crowns!
The moon sped brightly forth taking top stage
Stars came twinkling across heavenly skies
The wise old owl took its same midnight flight
Night spread its woven cloak of evil lies
While sleeping crowds await first new rage!
Triumphant crowns!
The rays of morn took their first golden breath
Dispersing powers of night's darkling mists
First gleams romancing sweet the earthen shores
Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists
Demanding night accept its coming death!
Triumphant crowns!
Robert J. Lindley, 2-17-2021
Romanticism, ( That Man Could Wake To See Coming Of Eternity )
Blog poem.
*****
(2.)
Love's Fever Burns In The Air, As We Kiss Anew
As my angel passed by, sweet the rustling leaves
And amidst world's accursed worries, life so grieves
Her soft footfalls, gift promise of far better days
Removing anguish birthed by darkened greys
A reprieve if you will, a blessing to arrive
A soft gentle breeze, love proving one is alive!
As she looks at me, her glowing smile, beaming bright
My heart begs this eager soul, pray to hold on tight
For such is a treasure so truly Heaven sent
Bountiful gift, to relieve such earthly torment
And wouldst I dare to question this exquisite gift
As just mere sight of her this spirit so uplifts!
As my bliss turns to my asking is this a dream
Is it a spell, fairies casting a golden stream
Nay, lonely heart replies, this is romance born true
Love's fever burns in the air, as we kiss anew
She grabs my hand and whisper darling, shall we dance
Again, we enter paradise of our romance!
As she looks at me, her glowing smile, beaming bright.
My heart begs this eager soul, pray to hold on tight!
Robert J. Lindley,
Romanticism, ( The Fever Of Love, If A Mere Dream, May I Never Wake )
Blog poem.
*****
(3.)
That Summer Day At That Resplendent, Ancient Weeping Tree
Around that tall, wide spread ancient weeping tree
Where singing meadows and smiling sky looking down
Upon a wandering searching child, namely me
Far, very far away from our small farming town
Gazing up to see where hides the Olympic gods
Seeking life's approval by their wizened nods!
Yet the gods had vanished leaving bright blue sky
Its deep beauty, vestige of all that was to be
I stood transfixed, bravely questioning the why
Could not life and happiness be given for free
Puzzled by the cold hard-set silence falling down
At last seeing, fled were the gods with their false crowns!
As such thoughts invaded a newly minted mind
A child decided best to further knowledge seek
For how ever was a soul to life's great truths find
And verify, blessings come to those humbly meek
Thus acknowledge power of words my father spoke
And prove too, life was love, light- God's masterful stroke!
That summer day at that resplendent, ancient weeping tree.
I found truth- God put an innocent, loving soul in me.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-16-2021
Romanticism-
( A poetic narrative, Wherein One Great Truth Was Found )
Blog poem.