Bridge," "The Reaper and the Flowers," "The Builders," "Sandalphon,' ‚" "Haunted Houses," and "The Village Blacksmith." Longfellow is perhaps the most popular with young people of all the American poets. His thought in most cases is quite within their grasp, and his rhythm is almost perfect. 66 EPIMETHEUS HENRY W. LONGFELLOW NOTE TO THE PUPIL. - Many of you who do not care for poetry generally, will enjoy very much of what Longfellow has written. Many of his minor poems are very beautiful, and nearly all are remarkable for their perfect rhythm, which with many is the feature of poetry that first attracts. The most popular of his longer poems are Evangeline" and "The Courtship of Miles Standish." Parts of "Hiawatha" are still read very widely, though the poem as a whole is not as popular as formerly. Several of the stories in "Tales of a Wayside Inn" are very interesting, and told in a charming manner. Many of his poems are in the Riverside Literature Series of Houghton, Mifflin and Co. You should own, if possible, his complete poems. AVE I dreamed, or was it real? HA What I saw as in a vision, When to marches hymeneal In the land of the Ideal Moved my thoughts o'er fields Elysian? What are these the guests whose glances As with magic circles bound me? Ah! how cold are their caresses! Pallid cheeks, and haggard bosoms! Spectral gleam their snow-white dresses, And from loose disheveled tresses Fall the hyacinthine blossoms. O my songs! whose winsome measures Fair they seemed, those songs sonorous, Like the wild birds singing o'er us Must each noble aspiration Not with steeper fall nor faster, Icarus fell with shattered pinions! Sweet Pandora! Dear Pandora! If to win thee is to hate thee? No, not hate thee! for this feeling Is but passionate appealing, O'er the chords of our existence. Him whom thou dost once enamour, In life's discord, strife, and clamor Weary hearts by thee are lifted, Struggling souls by thee are strengthened, Clouds of fear asunder rifted, Truth from falsehood cleansed and sifted, Therefore art thou ever dearer, For thou makest each mystery clearer, Muse of all the Gifts and Graces! Though the fields around us wither, There are ampler realms and spaces, Where no foot has left its traces: Let us turn and wander thither ! EXCELSIOR HENRY W. LONGFELLOW THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad his eye beneath, The accents of that unknown tongue, In happy homes he saw the light "Try not the pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! "O stay," the maiden said, "and rest "Beware the pine tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche !" This was the peasant's last good night, At break of day, as heavenward A traveler, by the faithful hound, There in the twilight cold and gray, And from the sky, serene and far, THE BRIDGE HENRY W. LONGFELLOW STOOD on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose over the city, Behind the dark church tower. |