Explore "Mezzo Cammin" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Half of my life is gone, and I have let / The years slip from me and have not fulfilled / The aspiration of my youth, to build / Some tower of song with lofty parapet. / Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret / Of restless passions chat would not be stilled, / But sorrow, and a care that almost killed, / Kept me from what I may accomplish yet; / Though, half way up the hill, I see the Past / Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights, -- / A city in the twilight dim and vast, / With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights. -- / And hear above me on the autumnal blast / The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.