By The Fireside : The Open Window Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Portland, Maine
follow poet
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Portland, Maine
follow poet

By The Fireside : The Open Window

Rating: 2.9


The old house by the lindens
Stood silent in the shade,
And on the gravelled pathway
The light and shadow played.

I saw the nursery windows
Wide open to the air;
But the faces of the children,
They were no longer there.

The large Newfoundland house-dog
Was standing by the door;
He looked for his little playmates,
Who would return no more.

They walked not under the lindens,
They played not in the hall;
But shadow, and silence, and sadness
Were hanging over all.

The birds sang in the branches,
With sweet, familiar tone;
But the voices of the children
Will be heard in dreams alone!

And the boy that walked beside me,
He could not understand
Why closer in mine, ah! closer,
I pressed his warm, soft hand!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Be the first one to comment on this poem!
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Portland, Maine
follow poet
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Portland, Maine
follow poet
Close
Error Success