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afternoon beautiful begin Boston bright bring called Cambridge Charles Sumner charming church comes DEAR delightful dine dinner drove Emerson England English Evangeline eyes face feel Felton Ferdinand Freiligrath Fields finished gave German give Golden half hand Hawthorne head hear heard heart Hiawatha hope hour interesting Italy kind leave lecture Legend letter light lines live London LONGFELLOW looking lovely Lowell March meet mind Miss morning nature never night party passed picture play pleasant poem poet poetry present published rain received round seems seen sent sermon Slavery song speech story Street Sumner talk thank things thought to-day took town translation voice volume walk week whole wish write written wrote York young
Page 243 - Who would have thought the old man had so much blood in him...
Page 421 - Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace : Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
Page 284 - March 30. Wrote the poem ; and am rather pleased with it, and with the bringing in of the two lines of the old Lapland song, A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Page 396 - This will be a great day in our history; the date of a new Revolution, — quite as much needed as the old one. Even now as I write, they are leading old John Brown to execution in Virginia for attempting to rescue slaves! This is sowing the wind to reap the whirlwind, which will come soon.
Page 273 - I have at length hit upon a plan for a poem on the American Indians, which seems to me the right one and the only. It is to weave together their beautiful traditions into a whole. I have hit upon a measure, too, which I think the right and only one for such a theme.
Page 100 - Still more do I thank you for resigning to me that legend of Acady. This success I owe entirely to you, for being willing to forego the pleasure of writing a prose tale which many people would have taken for poetry, that I might write a poem which many people take for prose.
Page 248 - In weariness of spirit and despair of writing anything original, I turned again, to-day, to dear old Dante, and resumed my translation of the Purgatorio where I left it in 1843. I find great delight in the work. It diffused its benediction through the day.
Page 226 - Longfellow, in the Golden Legend, has entered more closely into the temper of the Monk, for good and for evil, than ever yet theological writer or historian, though they may have given their life's labor to the analysis...
Page 21 - Our friends think they could throw for thee one thousand more votes than for any other man." from slavery of all kinds ; but I cannot for a moment think of entering the political arena. Partisan warfare becomes too violent, too vindictive, for my taste; and I should be found but a weak and unworthy champion in public debate.