Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems

In those days the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,
And his love for Chibiabos,
...

Labor with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits the rising of the sun.
...

Dear child! how radiant on thy mother's knee,
With merry-making eyes and jocund smiles,
Thou gazest at the painted tiles,
Whose figures grace,
...

When descends on the Atlantic
The gigantic
Storm-wind of the equinox,
Landword in his wrath he scourges
...

Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
Skilled in all the craft of hunters,
...

A vision as of crowded city streets,
With human life in endless overflow;
Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets that blow
To battle; clamor, in obscure retreats,
...

In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face -- the face of one long dead --
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
...

O sweet illusions of song
That tempt me everywhere,
In the lonely fields, and the throng
...

She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side,
In valleys green and cool;
And all her hope and all her pride
Are in the village school.
...

Oh the long and dreary Winter!
Oh the cold and cruel Winter!
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker
Froze the ice on lake and river,
...