Chapter Chapter 5 of Index by Simonds History of American Literature

Among the many tributes to the memory of the poet there was none quite so touching, none more apt, than the comment made by Emerson at Longfellow's funeral. He was then within a month of his own departure, his memory was shattered, and he showed all the weakness of his pathetic decline. Gazing intently upon the face of the dead poet, he turned to a friend and said: "That gentleman was a sweet, beautiful soul, but I have entirely forgotten his name."¹

Longfellow's name is safe; and the many thousands who still read and love his poems continue to recognize therein the "sweet, beautiful soul" of the poet. His body lies in Mount Auburn, the resting-place of many famous contemporaries.

Poetic Gifts.

The qualities which especially mark the poetry of Longfellow are simplicity of style, beautiful imagery, moral earnestness, and narrative power.

Simplicity.

So simple is this poet that many critics pronounce him commonplace. Unquestionably he possessed what may be termed the common mind. He was not a profound thinker, not one of "the bards sublime"; he spoke out of the common experience of life, and it was this in large degree which gave him the comprehension and affection of the common people.²

We must remember, also, that when we dwell upon the commonplaceness or the triteness of Longfellow's sentiment, we are often emphasizing the fact that the verse of our criticism has become worn by our own use.

Beauty of Imagery.

Longfellow shared generously in the gift bestowed on all poets, the sense of beauty and the power of figurative expression. Not at all like the magical art of Poe, Longfellow's art, impassionate, quiet, restrained, often pensive, sometimes melancholy, -- never morbid, -- is equally distinctive and equally true. He, too, had a rare felicity of phrase which gave artistic setting to his figures. The following passages are characteristic illustrations of his simple but effective imagery: --

"From the cool cisterns of the midnight air my spirit drank repose."¹

"She struck where the white and fleecy waves
   Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they goared her side
   Like the horns of an angry bull."²

"Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget- me-nots of the angels."³

"Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor
Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning."⁴

"For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day."⁵

The Moral Element.

Like Bryant, Longfellow is usually impressed by the "lesson" in the thing he sees, and often tags his poem with a moral that is obvious enough to be left unformulated. Yet the happy expression of these wise observations is far from unattractive to the average American reader; and through them he won his way to the hearts of many. Of this didactic tendency we may take as familiar examples A Psalm of Life and The Rainy Day, in which the moral lesson is the main purpose of each. In The Village Blacksmith we are reminded of Wordsworth's manner: --

"Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
   For the lesson thou hast taught!"