The Prose Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Hyperion

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Houghton, Osgood, 1878
 

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Page 318 - Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Page 254 - And his grave in silence sought; But the younger, brighter form Passed in battle and in storm. " So, whene'er I turn my eye Back upon the days gone by, Saddening thoughts of friends come o'er me, Friends, who closed their course before me. " Yet what binds us, friend to friend, But that soul with soul can blend ? Soul-like were those hours of yore; Let us walk in soul once more ! " Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee ; Take, — I give it willingly; For, invisible to thee, Spirits twain have crossed...
Page 257 - INTO the Silent Land ! Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand, Thither, O thither, Into the Silent Land...
Page 265 - I KNOW a maiden fair to see, Take care ! She can both false and friendly be, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not, She is fooling thee ! She has two eyes, so soft and brown, Take care ! She gives a side-glance and looks down, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not, She is fooling thee...
Page 344 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Page 5 - Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and with a manly heart.
Page 148 - Whoe'er she be, That not impossible she That shall command my heart and me; Where'er she lie, Locked up from mortal eye In shady leaves of destiny: Till that ripe birth Of studied Fate stand forth...
Page 343 - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, "Whose light doth trample on my days — My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays.
Page 257 - Land! For all the broken-hearted, The mildest herald by our fate allotted Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land ! L'ENVOI.
Page 86 - Believe me, the talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well ; and doing well whatever you do, — without a thought of fame.

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