The Old Clock on the Stairs
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Afternoon in February
An April Day
The Arrow and the Song
The Arsenal at Springfield
Autumn
Autumn Within
The Beleaguered City
The Belfry of Bruges
Birds Of Passage
Blind Bartimeus
The Bridge
Burial of the Minnisink
Carillon
Changed
Children
The Children's Hour
The Courtship of Miles Standish
Curfew
Dante
Day is Done
Drinking Song
Endymion
Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie
The Evening Star
Excelsior
Fata Morgana
Flowers
Footsteps of Angels
A Gleam of Sunshine
Goblet of Life
God's Acre
The Good Part, That Shall Not be Taken Away
Hymn of the Moravian Nuns of Bethlehem at the Consecration of Pulaski's Banner
Hymn to the Night
It Is Not Always May
L'Envoi
The Ladder of St. Augustine
The Light of Stars
Loss And Gain
Maidenhood
Mezzo Cammin
Midnight Mass for the Dying Year
My Lost Youth
Nature
The Norman Baron
Nuremburg
The Occultation of Orion
The Old Clock on the Stairs
Paul Revere's Ride
A Psalm of Life
The Quadroon Girl
Rain in Summer
The Rainy Day
The Reaper and the Flowers
The Republic
The Skeleton in Armor
The Slave In the Dismal Swamp
The Slave Singing at Midnight
The Slave's Dream
Snow-Flakes
The Song of Hiawatha
The Sound Of The Sea
Spirit of Poetry
St. John's, Cambridge
Sunrise on the Hills
The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
To a Child
To an Old Danish Song-Book
To the Driving Cloud
To the River Charles
To William E. Channing
Village Blacksmith
Voices Of the Night
Walter Von Der Vogel Weid
The Warning
The Witnesses
Woods in Winter
Wreck of the Hesperus
Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country-seat. Across its antique portico Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw; And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says to all,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas! With sorrowful voice to all who pass,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" By day its voice is low and light; But in the silent dead of night, Distinct as a passing footstep's fall, It echoes along the vacant hall, Along the ceiling, along the floor, And seems to say, at each chamber-door,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, And as if, like God, it all things saw, It calmly repeats those words of awe,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" In that mansion used to be Free-hearted Hospitality; His great fires up the chimney roared; The stranger feasted at his board; But, like the skeleton at the feast, That warning timepiece never ceased,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" There groups of merry children played, There youths and maidens dreaming strayed; O precious hours! O golden prime, And affluence of love and time! Even as a Miser counts his gold, Those hours the ancient timepiece told,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" From that chamber, clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night; There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shroud of snow; And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!" All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask, with throbs of pain. "Ah! when shall they all meet again?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever! Never here, forever there, Where all parting, pain, and care, And death, and time shall disappear,-- Forever there, but never here! The horologe of Eternity Sayeth this incessantly,-- "Forever--never! Never--forever!"