DELIGHTFUL, INSPIRING and PROFOUND POEMS By Henry W. Longfellow that you probably never heard of…that will blow your mind!
For me, as a life long poet myself who has searched for inspiration, it is these little known lyrical poems about life and its profound spiritual purposes that are among my favorite poetry of all time
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This is WEEKEND edition of THE DAWNING LIGHT Magazine # 1423
Our premium version of our “Daily Journal of Transformational Writing”
Today we are featuring our JOURNEY Of The HEART Section # 771
Transformational Poetry and Love Songs For the Soul…Written or selected and edited by Chinmayan, Founder and Director of Inner Resource Institute and Still Mountain Meditation Center… to delight and inspire you to open your heart to becoming a force of Love in this beautiful world
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HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882) was the most revered and well loved American Poet of his time. His original works that he is most famous for include the poems "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline.
But for me, it is the little known lyrical poetry about life and its profound spiritual purposes that are among my favorite poems of all time.
These poems I am sharing here with you are masterpieces that reveal their full power and cadence when they are read aloud.
Longfellow weaves together glowing beautiful ideas, reflections and images in a musical tapestry that carry revelations and truths that are secret keys to awakening spirituality.
These poems reveal fresh insights and delights with each new reading.
You will be well rewarded if you take the time to slowly read or recite and savor each of these poems!
A PSALM OF LIFE
What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
THE DAY IS DONE
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
TOILING UPWARDS IN THE NIGHT
BE KIND, FOR EVERYONE IS FIGHTING An Inner Battle You Know Nothing About
Every heart has its secret sorrows,
Which the world knows not,
And oftentimes we call a man cold,
When his heart is only hurting and sad.
A WONDERFUL SHORT FILM “Henry W. Longfellow: At Home and In Print”
I love this short but insightful film that was made in Longfellow’s home, which has been preserved as a National Park, about his life, his poetry and his impact on his time through writing and teaching….
Click on this link below to watch this fascinating 4 minute video…
LONGFELLOW: At Home and In Print…the life and home of the most beloved poet of his time
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