 | [Poems by Longfellow in] Final memorials of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |  |
NON CLAMOR SED AMOR
136
[The same wind blowing]
The same wind blowing,The same sea flowing;
Only the beholder
Grown three years older.
161
To J. T. Fields.
Three-fifths of twelve
Are $7.20.
This may appear
To be somewhat dear;
But wherefore went he?
Are $7.20.
This may appear
To be somewhat dear;
But wherefore went he?
The Faust of Goúnod
Is an opera, you know,
In which Castelmary
Plays the Old Harry,—
Therefore spent he
His $7.20.
Is an opera, you know,
In which Castelmary
Plays the Old Harry,—
Therefore spent he
His $7.20.
June 4, 1871.
248
Epitaph
On a Maid-of-all-Work.
Here a maid-of-all-workHer rest doth take;
When alive, she touched nothing
She did not break.
327
[What is autobiography]
‘What is autobiography?It is what a biography ought to be.’
[When you ask one friend to dine]
‘When you ask one friend to dine,Give him your best wine!
When you ask two,
The second best will do!’
329
[The soldier asked for bread]
‘The soldier asked for bread;But they waited till he was dead,
And gave him a stone instead,
Sixty and one feet high!’
333
[Better juice of vine]
‘Better juice of vineThan berry wine!
Fire! fire! steel, oh, steel!
Fire! fire! steel and fire!’”
383
FRAGMENTS OF VERSE.
GREAT AND SMALL.
The Power that built the starry dome on high,And groined the vaulted rafters of the sky,
Teaches the linnet with unconscious breast
To round the inverted heaven of her nest.
To that mysterious Power which governs all,
Is neither high nor low, nor great nor small.
THOUGHT AND SPEECH.
Sudden from out the cannon's brazen lipsThe level smoke runs shining in the sun,
While the invisible and silent ball
Outruns it in its speed, and does its work
Unseen and far away. So from the sound
And smoke of human speech the thought runs forward,
Doing its work unseen and far away.
REFORMERS.
Something must be forgiven to great Reformers,—The prophets of a fair new-world to be.
They cannot see the glory of the Past,
As men who walk with faces to the East
See not the glory of the setting sun.
384
EGYPT.
I see it in a vision, in the dark,—The river, the great river, flowing, flowing
Forever through the shadowless, white land.
Upon its banks the gods of Abou Simbel
Sit patient, with their hands upon their knees,
And listen to the voice of cataracts,
And seem to say: “Why hurry with such speed?
Eternity is long; the gods can wait;
Wait, wait like us!” Along the river shores
The red flamingoes stand; and over them
Against the sky dark caravans of camels
Pass underneath the palm-trees, and are gone.
LEAVES.
Red leaves! dead leaves! that from the forest-trees,Cradled in air a moment, fall and die,
Or float upon the surface of a brook,—
O Songs of mine! what are ye more than these?
What are ye more than Autumn leaves that lie
Gathered and pressed together in a book?
QUATRAIN.
Why waste the hours in idle talk,When life is short, and time is flying?
Why interrupt my work or walk,
Since while we 're living, we are dying?
TWELFTH-NIGHT.
Last night this room was full of sport,
For here, amid her train advancing,
The Queen of Twelfth-Night held her court,
With music, merriment, and dancing.
For here, amid her train advancing,
The Queen of Twelfth-Night held her court,
With music, merriment, and dancing.
385
Upon this Spanish convent chair
The lovely maiden queen was seated;
A crown of flowers was in her hair,
And kneeling youths their sovereign greeted.
The lovely maiden queen was seated;
A crown of flowers was in her hair,
And kneeling youths their sovereign greeted.
The busts of Grecian bards sublime
Smiled from their antique oaken cases,
As if they saw renewed the time
Of all the Muses and the Graces.
Smiled from their antique oaken cases,
As if they saw renewed the time
Of all the Muses and the Graces.
And the old Poets on their shelves,
Awaking from their dusty slumbers,
Recalled what they had sung themselves
Of Youth and Beauty in their numbers.
Awaking from their dusty slumbers,
Recalled what they had sung themselves
Of Youth and Beauty in their numbers.
And round the merry dancers whirled
Beneath the evergreens and holly,—
A world of youth, a happy world,
That banished care and melancholy.
Beneath the evergreens and holly,—
A world of youth, a happy world,
That banished care and melancholy.
Now all is changed; the guests have fled,
The joyous guests, the merry-hearted.
Ah, me! the room itself seems dead,
Since so much youth and life departed!
The joyous guests, the merry-hearted.
Ah, me! the room itself seems dead,
Since so much youth and life departed!
| [Poems by Longfellow in] Final memorials of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | |