Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow

¨ He was sent to school at age three ¨ In 1826 Henry went to Europe as a school travel to prepare to become a professor ending in 1829 when he returned to America ¨ In 1831 he married Mary Storer Potter ¨ In 1834 he was appointed a professor at Harvard and while on another preparation trip in Europe, his wife died ¨ Seven years after her death Henry married Frances Appleton ¨ In 1854 Longfellow resigned from Harvard to write ¨ The poems “Evangeline”, “ Hiawatha”, “the Courtship of Miles Standish”, “Village Blacksmith” were some of his most famous and widely recognized ¨ In 1861 His wife Frances Appleton died ¨ Longfellow died on March 24, 1882 ||  || Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Black shadows fall From the lindens tall, That lift aloft their massive wall Against the southern sky;
 * [[image:http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16786/16786-h/images/front_th.jpg width="306" height="421" caption="Portrait of Longfellow" link="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16786/16786-h/images/front.jpg"]] || ¨ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born on February 27, 1807, in the seaport of Portland, Maine
 * Birds Of Passage **
 * Birds Of Passage **

And from the realms Of the shadowy elms A tide-like darkness overwhelm The fields that round us lie.

But the night is fair, And everywhere A warm, soft vapor fills the air, And distant sounds seem near;

And above, in the light Of the star-lit night, Swift birds of passage wing their flight Through the dewy atmosphere.

I hear the beat Of their pinions fleet, As from the land of snow and sleet They seek a southern lea.

I hear the cry Of their voices high Falling dreamily through the sky, But their forms I cannot see.

Oh, say not so! Those sounds that flow In murmurs of delight and woe Come not from wings of birds.

They are the throngs Of the poet's songs, Murmurs of pleasures, and pains, and wrongs, The sound of winged words.

This is the cry Of souls, that high On toiling, beating pinions, fly, Seeking a warmer clime.

From their distant flight Through realms of light It falls into our world of night, With the murmuring sound of rhyme. Rhyme scheme: a, a, a, b, a, a, b ||  ||   || [] [] ||  ||
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