Keats

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The young Endymion sleeps Endymion’s sleep;
    The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told!
    The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold
    To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep;
    It is midsummer, but the air is cold;
    Can it be death? Alas, beside the fold
    A shepherd’s pipe lies shattered near his sheep.
Lo! in the moonlight gleams a marble white,
    On which I read: “Here lieth one whose name
    Was writ in water.” And was this the meed
Of his sweet singing? Rather let me write:
    “The smoking flax before it burst to flame
    Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.”

Next 10 Poems

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Ladder Of St. Augustine, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : L'envoi
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Light Of Stars, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Loss And Gain
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Maidenhood
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Memories
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Mezzo Cammin
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Midnight Mass For The Dying Year
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Milton
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Moonlight

Previous 10 Poems

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : It Is Not Always May
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Intorduction To The Song Of Hiawatha
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hymn To The Night
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hymn Of The Moravian Nuns Of Bethlehem At The Consecration Of Pulaski's Banner
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hunting Of Pau-puk Keewis, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Holidays
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hiawatha's Wooing
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hiawatha's Wedding-feast
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hiawatha's Sailing
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Hiawatha's Lamentation