Longfellow Arrow
Longfellow's specialty coffee brewed in a French press, and a good poem -- two of my favorite things.
Couldn't help but think of my late and wonderful father when I first noticed that this is National Poetry Month, and I was looking for a way to pay tribute to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Dad loved jokes, and he spoonfed them to me as far back as I can remember. Somewhere along the way in my youth, knowing how I loved literature, he taught me these little ditties:
"I shot an arrow into the air. It fell to earth I knew not where. I lose more danged arrows that way."
AND:
"You're a poet, and you didn't know it. But your feet show it. They're longfellows!"
Apologies to the memory of HWL, the great 19th Century American poet, often regarded as the greatest of his era, for the corniness. Bad jokes aside, it's a good month for us to link you to the real Longfellow whose name graces our Web site, as selected by my colleague and wedding best-man Bruce for his coffee shops in New Jersey.
You'll find the profound three stanzas of "The Arrow and The Song" elsewhere on the site by clicking here.
You might also enjoy indulging in this tidily-presented bio of the writer who, while best known as a poet, also was prolific in other genres -- magazine articles, plays, novels, etc. It gives insight into why Bruce selected Longfellow's as a brand: excellent origins, strong character, enjoyment while relaxing, greatness throughout the body of works, and contributing to make a better America.
The Longfellow work that captured my fancy back in days of studying American Lit started with another of his most renowned and recited lines:
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"By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
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By the shining Big-Sea-Water...."
The lines are buried in a segment of the epic narrative, "The Song of Hiawatha." Curiously, I find that often when I've heard persons cite this line, they didn't know the source, or what river and its location that Longfellow alluded to in this classic work.
Gotcha. Gitche Gumee isn't a river. But the point here isn't intended as an insult; why, pray thee, should we know that it was Longfellow's translation from Native American Indian lore and language of one of the Great Lakes, Lake Superior?
What we know is that it's a catchy phrase, fun to say, and became internationally-renowned for that very reason. Also, it surely reminds us of a teacher along the way who made us not only read the whole thing, but also to discuss its meaning. Isn't that how we regarded poetry, typically, as kids?
Oh, and many a comic also drew a line from the name of Hiawatha's girlfriend, Minnehaha.
For me, this fictional Hiawatha drawn from lore (as opposed to the Mohawk chief Hiawatha in real life) was appealing because of his peaceful nature and the way he could talk to animals (100 years before Dr. Doolittle!).
On some level, poetry pervades all our lives -- hey, who hasn't made up a "roses are red, violets are blue"? -- and it feels good to add a little levity and a little salute to a great poet whose name we honor with the best specialty coffees in the world.
Be of good cheer,
Mike McKenzie
On-line Marketing/Sales
P.S.--Write to us about your favorites in poetry: mike@longfellowscoffee.com. For me, the best came from the 1800s. I love the works of the transcendentalists, especially the guys with three names, Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson, along Walt Whitman. Emily Dickinson rocks. And among more modern writers, Billy Collins head the list. Treat yourself to "Sailing Alone Around the Room," or the one I just reread this week, "Nine Horses."