Something Left Undone

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

By the bedside, on the stair,
At the threshhold, near the gates,
With its menace or its prayer,
Like a medicant it waits;

Waits, and will not go away;
Waits, and will not be gainsaid;
By the cares of yesterday
Each to-day is heavier made;

Till at length the burden seems
Greater than our strength can bear,
Heavy as the weight of dreams
Pressing on us everywhere.

And we stand from day to day,
Like the dwarfs of times gone by,
Who, as Northern legends say,
On their shoulders held the sky.

Next 10 Poems

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Son Of The Evening Star, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Sound Of The Sea, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Spirit Of Poetry, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : St. John's, Cambridge
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Sundown
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Sunrise On The Hills
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Arrow And The Song
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Arsenal At Springfield
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Belfrey Of Bruges
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• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Snow-flakes
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Slave's Dream, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Slave Singing At Midnight, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Slave In The Dismal Swamp, The
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• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Shakespeare
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• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Reaper And The Flowers, The