Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

1807-1882 / Male / American
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Rain In SummerHow beautiful is the rain! / After the dust and heat, / In the broad and fiery street,
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A FragmentAwake! arise! the hour is late! / Angels are knocking at thy door! / They are in haste and cannot wait,
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Hiawatha’s HuntingForth into the forest straightway / All alone walked Hiawatha / Proudly, with his bow and arrows,
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SeaweedWhen descends on the Atlantic / The gigantic / Storm-wind of the equinox,
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Hiawatha’s Sailing“Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! / Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree! / Growing by the rushing river,
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My Lost YouthOften I think of the beautiful town / That is seated by the sea; / Often in thought go up and down
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The Building Of The Ship“Build me straight, O worthy Master! / Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, / That shall laugh at all disaster,
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Hiawatha’s FishingForth upon the Gitche Gumee, / On the shining Big-Sea-Water, / With his fishing-line of cedar,
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The Village BlacksmithUnder a spreading chestnut-tree / The village smithy stands; / The smith, a mighty man is he,
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The BuildersAll are architects of Fate, / Working in these walls of Time; / Some with massive deeds and great,
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