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").
Venice
White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nestSo wonderfully built among the reedsOf the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,As sayeth thy old historian..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: The Windmill
Behold! a giant am I!Aloft here in my tower,With my granite jaws I devourThe maize, and the wheat, and the rye,And grind them into flour.I look down..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;Along the sea-sands damp and brownThe traveller hastens toward the town,And the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: The Sifting Of Peter
In St. Luke's Gospel we are toldHow Peter in the days of oldWas sifted;And now, though ages intervene,Sin is the same, while time and sceneAre..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: The Poet And His Songs
As the birds come in the Spring,We know not from where;As the stars come at eveningFrom depths of the air;As the rain comes from the cloud,And the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: The Iron Pen
I thought this Pen would ariseFrom the casket where it lies--Of itself would arise and writeMy thanks and my surprise.When you gave it me under the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Robert Burns
I see amid the fields of AyrA ploughman, who, in foul and fair,Sings at his taskSo clear, we know not if it isThe laverock's song we hear, or his,Nor..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Old St. David's At Radnor
What an image of peace and restIs this little church among its graves!All is so quiet; the troubled breast,The wounded spirit, the heart..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Night
Into the darkness and the hush of nightSlowly the landscape sinks, and fades away,And with it fade the phantoms of the day,The ghosts of men and..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: My Cathedral
Like two cathedral towers these stately pinesUplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;The arch beneath them is not built with stones,Not Art..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: 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
Ultima Thule: From My Arm-Chair
Am I a king, that I should call my ownThis splendid ebon throne?Or by what reason, or what right divine,Can I proclaim it mine?Only, perhaps, by..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Elegiac
Dark is the morning with mist; in the narrow mouth of the harborMotionless lies the sea, under its curtain of cloud;Dreamily glimmer the sails of..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Dedication To G. W. G.
With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas,We sailed for the Hesperides,The land where golden apples grow;But that, ah! that was long ago.How far, since..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ultima Thule: Bayard Taylor
Dead he lay among his books!The peace of God was in his looks.As the statues in the gloomWatch o'er Maximilian's tomb,So those volumes from their..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Two Sonnets From The Spanish Of Francisco De Medrano
Causa la vista el artificio humano, etc.The works of human artifice soon tireThe curious eye; the fountain's sparkling rill,And gardens, when adorned..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Travels By The Fireside. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
The ceaseless rain is falling fast,And yonder gilded vane,Immovable for three days past,Points to the misty main,It drives me in upon myselfAnd to..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To-Morrow (From The Spanish Of Lope De Vega)
Lord, what am I, that with unceasing careThou did'st seek after me, that Thou did'st waitWet with unhealthy dews before my gate,And pass the gloomy..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Today We Make The Poet's Words Our Own
To-day we make the poet's words our own,And utter them in plaintive undertone;Nor to the living only be they said,But to the other living called the..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To William E. Channing
The pages of thy book I read,And as I closed each one,My heart, responding, ever said,"Servant of God! well done!"Well done! Thy words are great and..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To Vittoria Colonna. (Sonnet Vi.)
When the prime mover of my many sighsHeaven took through death from out her earthly place,Nature, that never made so fair a face,Remained ashamed..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To Vittoria Colonna. (Sonnet V.)
Lady, how can it chance--yet this we seeIn long experience--that will longer lastA living image carved from quarries vastThan its own maker, who dies..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To The Stork. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
Welcome, O Stork! that dost wingThy flight from the far-away!Thou hast brought us the signs of Spring,Thou hast made our sad hearts gay.Descend, O..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To The River Yvette. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
O lovely river of Yvette!O darling river! like a bride,Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette,Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide.Maincourt, and lordly..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To The River Rhone
Thou Royal River, born of sun and showerIn chambers purple with the Alpine glow,Wrapped in the spotless ermine of the snowAnd rocked by tempests!--at..
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow