November
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
1807 to 1882
The Centaur, Sagittarius, am I,
Born of Ixion's and the cloud's embrace;
With sounding hoofs across the earth I fly,
A steed Thessalian with a human face.
Sharp winds the arrows are with which I chase
The leaves, half dead already with affright;
I shroud myself in gloom; and to the race
Of mortals bring nor comfort nor delight.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's November
I am busy working to bring Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "November" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "November" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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