From my most recent poetry blog......

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Blog on The Great Poet-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
Blog Posted:2/18/2021 4:37:00 PM
Blog on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Three Poems by Longfellow…



The Day is Done
-- BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.



I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:



A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.



Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.



Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of Time.



For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And to-night I long for rest.



Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;



Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of ease,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies.



Such songs have power to quiet

The restless pulse of care,

And come like the benediction

That follows after prayer.



Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.



And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.



******

The Arrow and the Song
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.



I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?



Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.



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Aftermath
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

When the summer fields are mown,

When the birds are fledged and flown,

And the dry leaves strew the path;

With the falling of the snow,

With the cawing of the crow,

Once again the fields we mow

And gather in the aftermath.



Not the sweet, new grass with flowers

Is this harvesting of ours;

Not the upland clover bloom;

But the rowen mixed with weeds,

Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,

Where the poppy drops its seeds

In the silence and the gloom.



*******

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_...rth_Longfellow



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

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"Henry Wadsworth" redirects here. For the actor, see Henry Wadsworth (actor).

"Longfellow" redirects here. For other uses, see Longfellow (disambiguation).

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron in 1868

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron in 1868

Born February 27, 1807

Portland, Maine, U.S.

Died March 24, 1882 (aged 75)

Cambridge, Massachusetts, U.S.

Occupation Poet

Professor

Alma mater Bowdoin College

Spouses Mary Storer Potter

Frances Elizabeth Appleton

Children Charles Appleton Longfellow

Ernest Wadsworth Longfellow

Fanny Longfellow

Alice Mary Longfellow

Edith Longfellow

Anne Allegra Longfellow

Signature

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882) was an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. He was the first American to translate Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy and was one of the Fireside Poets from New England.



Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, which was then still part of Massachusetts. He studied at Bowdoin College and became a professor at Bowdoin and later at Harvard College after spending time in Europe. His first major poetry collections were Voices of the Night (1839) and Ballads and Other Poems (1841). He retired from teaching in 1854 to focus on his writing, and he lived the remainder of his life in the Revolutionary War headquarters of George Washington in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His first wife Mary Potter died in 1835 after a miscarriage. His second wife Frances Appleton died in 1861 after sustaining burns when her dress caught fire. After her death, Longfellow had difficulty writing poetry for a time and focused on translating works from foreign languages. He died in 1882.



Longfellow wrote many lyric poems known for their musicality and often presenting stories of mythology and legend. He became the most popular American poet of his day and had success overseas. He has been criticized by some, however, for imitating European styles and writing specifically for the masses.





Birthplace of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Portland, Maine, c. 1910; the house was demolished in 1955.

Longfellow was born on February 27, 1807, to Stephen Longfellow and Zilpah (Wadsworth) Longfellow in Portland, Maine,[1] then a district of Massachusetts.[2] He grew up in what is now known as the Wadsworth-Longfellow House. His father was a lawyer, and his maternal grandfather was Peleg Wadsworth, a general in the American Revolutionary War and a Member of Congress.[3] His mother was descended from Richard Warren, a passenger on the Mayflower.[4] He was named after his mother's brother Henry Wadsworth, a Navy lieutenant who had died three years earlier at the Battle of Tripoli.[5] He was the second of eight children.[6]



Longfellow was descended from English colonists who settled in New England in the early 1600s.[7] They included Mayflower Pilgrims Richard Warren, William Brewster, and John and Priscilla Alden through their daughter Elizabeth Pabodie, the first child born in Plymouth Colony.[8]



Longfellow attended a dame school at the age of three and was enrolled by age six at the private Portland Academy. In his years there, he earned a reputation as being very studious and became fluent in Latin.[9] His mother encouraged his enthusiasm for reading and learning, introducing him to Robinson Crusoe and Don Quixote.[10] He published his first poem in the Portland Gazette on November 17, 1820, a patriotic and historical four-stanza poem called "The Battle of Lovell's Pond".[11] He studied at the Portland Academy until age 14. He spent much of his summers as a child at his grandfather Peleg's farm in Hiram, Maine.



In the fall of 1822, 15 year-old Longfellow enrolled at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine, along with his brother Stephen.[9] His grandfather was a founder of the college[12] and his father was a trustee.[9] There Longfellow met Nathaniel Hawthorne who became his lifelong friend.[13] He boarded with a clergyman for a time before rooming on the third floor[14] in 1823 of what is now known as Winthrop Hall.[15] He joined the Peucinian Society, a group of students with Federalist leanings.[16] In his senior year, Longfellow wrote to his father about his aspirations



(Much more information at link given above .. Robert)



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2.

https://interestingliterature.com/20...e-should-read/



LITERATURE

The Best Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems Everyone Should Read

The best Longfellow poems



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was one of the most popular and influential American poets of the nineteenth century. Longfellow (1807-82) is best-known for The Song of Hiawatha, and for growing a beard to hide the marks of a family tragedy, but he also wrote many other celebrated poems. But what are Longfellow’s very best poems? Some poems immediately spring to mind, such as The Song of Hiawatha, but Longfellow was a prolific poet who wrote a great deal of great poems, not all of which are as well-known. Below, we pick – and discuss – ten of Longfellow’s greatest poems



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Three Tribute poems-- composed by me,

For Longfellow blog….

(1.)

Glory Of Faith's Triumphant Golden Crowns



The rays of morn took their first golden breath

Dispersing powers of night's darkling mists

First gleams romancing sweet the earthen shores

Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists

Demanding night accept its coming death!

Triumphant crowns!



Dawn's first yawning, a parade of new dreams

Waking Fate and its ever growing lists

With dancing echoes of showers to fall

Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists

Birthing flowers born from resplendent streams!

Triumphant crowns!



Sweet the softest callings of better days

With man rising to earn his daily bread

And Nature singing true to cheer life's all

Earth no longer mourning yesterday's dead

Future hope setting sail as sunbeams play!

Triumphant crowns!



Humanity follows its usual course

Teeming hordes traversing their daily treks

While bright blue-set skies rejoice overhead

Across well-worn pathways from life's great wrecks

Amidst the carnage of loss and remorse!

Triumphant crowns!



Father Time speaks demanding to be heard

Above the din of crowds surging about

Commanding its fleeing hours to obey

Sternly obeyed were its arrogant shouts

And the infinite powers of each word!

Triumphant crowns!



Sun was setting, its daily chores all done

Mortals noted the rapid fleeing light

All had felt the ever changing new course

Some with increasing joy, others with fright

Dark shadows arose screaming lets have fun!

Triumphant crowns!



The moon sped brightly forth taking top stage

Stars came twinkling across heavenly skies

The wise old owl took its same midnight flight

Night spread its woven cloak of evil lies

While the sleeping crowds await first new page!

Triumphant crowns!



The rays of morn took their first golden breath

Dispersing powers of night's darkling mists

First gleams romancing sweet the earthen shores

Beating back dark shadows with glowing fists

Demanding night accept its coming death!

Triumphant crowns!



Robert J. Lindley, 2-17-2021

Romanticism, ( That Man Could Wake To See Coming Of Eternity )

Blog poem.



*****

(2.)

Love's Fever Burns In The Air, As We Kiss Anew



As my angel passed by, sweet the rustling leaves

And amidst world's accursed worries, life so grieves

Her soft footfalls, gift promise of far better days

Removing anguish birthed by darkened greys

A reprieve if you will, a blessing to arrive

A soft gentle breeze, love proving one is alive!



As she looks at me, her glowing smile, beaming bright

My heart begs this eager soul, pray to hold on tight

For such is a treasure so truly Heaven sent

Bountiful gift, to relieve such earthly torment

And wouldst I dare to question this exquisite gift

As just mere sight of her this spirit so uplifts!



As my bliss turns to my asking is this a dream

Is it a spell, fairies casting a golden stream

Nay, lonely heart replies, this is romance born true

Love's fever burns in the air, as we kiss anew

She grabs my hand and whisper darling, shall we dance

Again, we enter paradise of our romance!



As she looks at me, her glowing smile, beaming bright.

My heart begs this eager soul, pray to hold on tight!



Robert J. Lindley,

Romanticism, ( The Fever Of Love, If A Mere Dream, May I Never Wake )

Blog poem.



*****

(3.)

That Summer Day At That Resplendent, Ancient Weeping Tree



Around that tall, wide spread ancient weeping tree

Where singing meadows and smiling sky looking down

Upon a wandering searching child, namely me

Far, very far away from our small farming town

Gazing up to see where hides the Olympic gods

Seeking life's approval by their wizened nods!



Yet the gods had vanished leaving bright blue sky

Its deep beauty, vestige of all that was to be

I stood transfixed, bravely questioning the why

Could not life and happiness be given for free

Puzzled by the cold hard-set silence falling down

At last seeing, fled were the gods with their false crowns!



As such thoughts invaded a newly minted mind

A child decided best to further knowledge seek

For how ever was a soul to life's great truths find

And verify, blessings come to those humbly meek

Thus acknowledge power of words my father spoke

And prove too, life was love, light- God's masterful stroke!



That summer day at that resplendent, ancient weeping tree.

I found truth- God put an innocent, loving soul in me.



Robert J. Lindley, 2-16-2021

Romanticism-

( A poetic narrative, Wherein One Great Truth Was Found )

Blog poem.