Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Jugurtha
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!Cried the African monarch, the splendid,As down to his death in the hollowDark dungeons of Rome he..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Jeckoyva
They made the warrior's grave besideThe dashing of his native time:And there was mourning in the glen--The strong wail of a thousand men--O'er him..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Italian Scenery
Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto.Beneath its shade the beauteous Arno sleepsIn vallombrosa's bosom, and dark treesBend with a calm and quiet shadow..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It Is Not Always May
No hay pajaros en los nidos de antano.Spanish ProverbThe sun is bright,--the air is clear,The darting swallows soar and sing.And from the stately..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Introduction To The Song Of Hiawatha
Should you ask me,whence these stories?Whence these legends and traditions,With the odors of the forestWith the dew and damp of meadows,With the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Inscription On The Shanklin Fountain
O Traveller, stay thy weary feet;Drink of this fountain, pure and sweet;It flows for rich and poor the same.Then go thy way, remembering stillThe..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: To The Avon
Flow on, sweet river! like his verseWho lies beneath this sculptured hearse;Nor wait beside the churchyard wallFor him who cannot hear thy call.Thy..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: The Wine Of Jurançon. (From The French Of Charles Coran)
Little sweet wine of Jurançon,You are dear to my memory still!With mine host and his merry song,Under the rose-tree I drank my fill.Twenty years..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: The Poet's Calendar
JANUARYJanus am I; oldest of potentates;Forward I look, and backward, and belowI count, as god of avenues and gates,The years that through my portals..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: The Four Lakes Of Madison
Four limpid lakes,--four NaiadesOr sylvan deities are these,In flowing robes of azure dressed;Four lovely handmaids, that upholdTheir shining..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: The City And The Sea
The panting City cried to the Sea,'I am faint with heat,--O breathe on me!'And the Sea said, 'Lo, I breathe! but my breathTo some will be life, to..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: The Children's Crusade
I.What is this I read in history,Full of marvel, full of mystery,Difficult to understand?Is it fiction, is it truth?Children in the flower of..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Sundown
The summer sun is sinking low;Only the tree-tops redden and glow:Only the weathercock on the spireOf the neighboring church is a flame of fire;All is..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Prelude
As treasures that men seek,Deep buried in sea-sands,Vanish if they but speak,And elude their eager hands,So ye escape and slip,O songs, and fade..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Possibilities
Where are the Poets, unto whom belongThe Olympian heights; whose singing shafts were sentStraight to the mark, and not from bows half bent,But with..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Moonlight
As a pale phantom with a lampAscends some ruin's haunted stair,So glides the moon along the dampMysterious chambers of the air.Now hidden in cloud..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Memories
Oft I remember those I have knownIn other days, to whom my heart was leadAs by a magnet, and who are not dead,But absent, and their memories..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Loss And Gain
When I compareWhat I have lost with what I have gained,What I have missed with what attained,Little room do I find for pride.I am awareHow many days..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: From The French
Will ever the dear days come back again,Those days of June, when lilacs were in bloom,And bluebirds sang their sonnets in the gloomOf leaves that..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Four By The Clock
Four by the clock! and yet not day;But the great world rolls and wheels away,With its cities on land, and its ships at sea,Into the dawn that is to..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Elegiac Verse
I.Peradventure of old, some bard in Ionian Islands,Walking alone by the sea, hearing the wash of the waves,Learned the secret from them of the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Decoration Day
Sleep, comrades, sleep and restOn this Field of the Grounded Arms,Where foes no more molest,Nor sentry's shot alarms!Ye have slept on the ground..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Chimes
Sweet chimes! that in the loneliness of nightSalute the passing hour, and in the darkAnd silent chambers of the household markThe movements of the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Becalmed
Becalmed upon the sea of Thought,Still unattained the land it sought,My mind, with loosely-hanging sails,Lies waiting the auspicious gales.On either..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In The Harbour: Autumn Within
It is autumn; not withoutBut within me is the cold.Youth and spring are all about;It is I that have grown old.Birds are darting through the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow