Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(27 February 1807 – 24 March 1882 / Portland, Maine)

A Shadow


I said unto myself, if I were dead,
What would befall these children? What would be
Their fate, who now are looking up to me
For help and furtherance? Their lives, I said,
Would be a volume wherein I have read
But the first chapters, and no longer see
To read the rest of their dear history,
So full of beauty and so full of dread.
Be comforted; the world is very old,
And generations pass, as they have passed,
A troop of shadows moving with the sun;
Thousands of times has the old tale been told;
The world belongs to those who come the last,
They will find hope and strength as we have done.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 30, 2010

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  • Poem Lover (4/1/2014 4:02:00 PM)

    ehhhhh not that greeeaattttt could be a lottttt betterr ya kno.. i jus aint feelin it (Report) Reply

  • Srivinay Salian (8/28/2013 3:58:00 PM)

    This in my opinion is about letting the young ones be as is and not being too protective about them... A philosophical reality expressed so beautifully... (Report) Reply

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