Childrens Own Longfellow

Project Gutenberg's The Children's Own Longfellow, by Henry W.
Longfellow #9 in our series by Henry W. Longfellow
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Title: The Children's Own Longfellow
Author: Henry W. Longfellow
Release Date: October, 2005 [EBook #9080]
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[This file was first posted on September
3, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
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0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
CHILDREN'S OWN LONGFELLOW ***
Produced by Patricia Peters and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team.
THE CHILDREN'S OWN LONGFELLOW
Illustrated
1908
Publishers' Note
Longfellow has been fitly called the children's poet. Many of his poems
have from their very first appearance been favorites with youthful
readers, and for many thousands of children he is the poet best beloved.
It has been, therefore, the hope of the publishers that this volume,
containing eight of the most popular of these poems, illustrated in color
by some of the best known American artists of the present day, will
find a ready welcome at the hands of young folks and their parents.
CONTENTS
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS
THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH
EVANGELINE
Part the First
THE SONG OF HIAWATHA:
Hiawatha's Sailing
Hiawatha's
Fishing
THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP
THE CASTLE-BUILDER
PAUL REVERE'S RIDE
THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT

ILLUSTRATIONS
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS S.M. Arthurs
He wrapped her
warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast
THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH Howard Smith
And children
coming home from school
Look in at the open door
EVANGELINE
Homeward serenely she walked with God's
benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing
of exquisite music
HIAWATHA'S FISHING
And he dropped his line of cedar

Through the clear, transparent water
THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP C. W. Ashley
The sun shone on her
golden hair,
And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair
THE CASTLE-BUILDER Olive Rush
A castle-builder, with his
wooden blocks,
And towers that touch imaginary skies
PAUL REVERE'S RIDE Howard Smith
A voice in the darkness, a
knock at the door
THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT
"Men shall hear of
Thorberg Skafting
For a hundred year!"
[Illustration: THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS S.M. Arthurs
He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging
blast ]
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS
It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea;
And the
skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month
of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West,
now South.
Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed to the Spanish Main,
"I
pray thee, put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.
"Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we
see!"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful
laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the Northeast,
The
snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her
cable's length.
"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."
He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.
"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
Oh say, what may it be?"
"'T
is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"--
And he steered for the open
sea.
"O father! I hear the sound of guns,
Oh say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"
"O father! I see a gleaming light,
Oh say, what may it be?"
But the

father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the
skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed
and glassy eyes.