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Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Twilight


The twilight is sad and cloudy,
  The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of sea-birds
  Flash the white caps of the sea. 

But in the fisherman's cottage
  There shines a ruddier light,
And a little face at the window
  Peers out into the night. 

Close, close it is pressed to the window,
  As if those childish eyes
Were looking into the darkness,
  To see some form arise. 

And a woman's waving shadow
  Is passing to and fro,
Now rising to the ceiling,
  Now bowing and bending low. 

What tale do the roaring ocean,
  And the night-wind, bleak and wild,
As they beat at the crazy casement,
  Tell to that little child? 

And why do the roaring ocean,
  And the night-wind, wild and bleak,
As they beat at the heart of the mother,
  Drive the color from her cheek?



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's other poems:
  1. Chaucer
  2. Einar Tamberskelver
  3. Thora of Rimol
  4. Bishop Sigurd at Salten-Fiord
  5. The Warden of the Cinque Ports


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Caroline Norton Twilight ("IT is the twilight hour")
  • Hazel Hall Twilight ("TIPTOEING twilight")
  • Fitz-Greene Halleck Twilight ("There is an evening twilight of the heart")
  • Amy Levy Twilight ("So Mary died last night! To-day")
  • Sara Teasdale Twilight ("Dreamily over the roofs")
  • Lucy Montgomery Twilight ("From vales of dawn hath Day pursued the Night")

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