John Greenleaf Whittier

"O Holy Father! just and true     Are all Thy works and words and ways,     And unto Thee alone are due     Thanksgiving and eternal praise!"

"On the isle of Penikese,     Ringed about by sapphire seas,     Fanned by breezes salt and cool,     Stood the Master with his school.     Ove"

"I have been thinking of the victims bound     In Naples, dying for the lack of air     And sunshine, in their close, damp cells of pain,     Wh"

"Yes, pile the marble o'er him! It is well     That ye who mocked him in his long stern strife,     And planted in the pathway of his life     T"

"A blush as of roses     Where rose never grew!     Great drops on the bunch-grass,     But not of the dew!     A taint in the sweet air     F"

"O strong, upwelling prayers of faith,     From inmost founts of life ye start,     The spirit's pulse, the vital breath     Of soul and heart!"

"Around Sebago's lonely lake     There lingers not a breeze to break     The mirror which its waters make.     The solemn pines along its shore"

"A gold fringe on the purpling hem     Of hills the river runs,     As down its long, green valley falls     The last of summers suns.     Alo"

"O storied vale of Merrimac     Rejoice through all thy shade and shine,     And from his century's sleep call back     A brave and honored son"

"I love the old melodious lays     Which softly melt the ages through,     The songs of Spensers golden days,     Arcadian Sidneys silvery phr"

"Midst the men and things which will     Haunt an old mans memory still,     Drollest, quaintest of them all,     With a boys laugh I recall"

"Dry the tears for holy Eva,     With the blessed angels leave her;     Of the form so soft and fair     Give to earth the tender care.     Fo"

"How sweetly on the wood-girt town     The mellow light of sunset shone!     Each small, bright lake, whose waters still     Mirror the forest a"

"Wildly round our woodland quarters     Sad-voiced Autumn grieves;     Thickly down these swelling waters     Float his fallen leaves.     Thro"

"So, this is all, the utmost reach     Of priestly power the mind to fetter!     When laymen think, when women preach,     A war of words, a "Pa"

"On receiving a sprig of heather in blossom.     No more these simple flowers belong     To Scottish maid and lover;     Sown in the common s"

"Over the threshold of his pleasant home     Set in green clearings passed the exiled Friend,     In simple trust, misdoubting not the end."

"Through Thy clear spaces, Lord, of old,     Formless and void the dead earth rolled;     Deaf to Thy heaven's sweet music, blind     To the gre"

"O dearest bloom the seasons know,     Flowers of the Resurrection blow,     Our hope and faith restore;     And through the bitterness of death"

"It is done!     Clang of bell and roar of gun     Send the tidings up and down.     How the belfries rock and reel!     How the great guns, pe"

"Call him not heretic whose works attest     His faith in goodness by no creed confessed.     Whatever in love's name is truly done     To free"

""I shall not soon forget that sight     The glow of Autumn's westering day,     A hazy warmth, a dreamy light,     On Raphael's picture lay."

"Read at the unveiling of the bust of Elizabeth Fry at the Friends' School, Providence, R. I. A. D. 1209.     Amidst Thuringia's wooded hills s"

"A strong and mighty Angel,     Calm, terrible, and bright,     The cross in blended red and blue     Upon his mantle white!     Two captives b"

"O Friends! with whom my feet have trod     The quiet aisles of prayer,     Glad witness to your zeal for God     And love of man I bear."

"On a blank leaf of "poems printed, not published.     Well thought! who would not rather hear     The songs to Love and Friendship sung     T"

"All things are Thine: no gift have we,     Lord of all gifts, to offer Thee;     And hence with grateful hearts to-day,     Thy own before Thy"

"His laurels fresh from song and lay,     Romance, art, science, rich in all,     And young of heart, how dare we say     We keep his seventieth"

"Dark the halls, and cold the feast,     Gone the bridemaids, gone the priest.     All is over, all is done,     Twain of yesterday are one!"

"Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day,     Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine,     Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life;     A"

"Accompanying manuscripts presented to a friend.     'T is said that in the Holy Land     The angels of the place have blessed     The pilgrim"

"Low in the east, against a white, cold dawn,     The black-lined silhouette of the woods was drawn,     And on a wintry waste     Of frosted st"

"They sat in silent watchfulness     The sacred cypress-tree about,     And, from beneath old wrinkled brows,     Their failing eyes looked out."

"Hurrah! the seaward breezes     Sweep down the bay amain;     Heave up, my lads, the anchor!     Run up the sail again!     Leave to the lubbe"

"He has done the work of a true man,     Crown him, honor him, love him.     Weep, over him, tears of woman,     Stoop manliest brows above him!"

"The new world honors him whose lofty plea     For England's freedom made her own more sure,     Whose song, immortal as its theme, shall be"

"I.     Light, warmth, and sprouting greenness, and oer all     Blue, stainless, steel-bright ether, raining down     Tranquillity upon the de"

"From the Mahabharata.     Before the Ender comes, whose charioteer     Is swift or slow Disease, lay up each year     Thy harvests of well-do"

"She came and stood in the Old South Church,     A wonder and a sign,     With a look the old-time sibyls wore,     Half-crazed and half-divine."

"How has New England's romance fled,     Even as a vision of the morning!     Its rites foredone, its guardians dead,     Its priestesses, beref"

"Thou hast fallen in thine armor,     Thou martyr of the Lord     With thy last breath crying "Onward!"     And thy hand upon the sword.     Th"

"Ho! workers of the old time styled     The Gentle Craft of Leather!     Young brothers of the ancient guild,     Stand forth once more together"

"But what avail inadequate words to reach     The innermost of Truth? Who shall essay,     Blinded and weak, to point and lead the way,     Or s"

"They left their home of summer ease     Beneath the lowlands sheltering trees,     To seek, by ways unknown to all,     The promise of the wat"

"I.     Along Crane River's sunny slopes     Blew warm the winds of May,     And over Naumkeag's ancient oaks     The green outgrew the gray."

"The name the Gallic exile bore,     St. Malo! from thy ancient mart,     Became upon our Western shore     Greenleaf for Feuillevert.     A n"

""Tie stille, barn min!     Imorgen kommer Fin,     Fa'er din,     Og gi'er dich Esbern Snares ine og hjerte at lege med!"     - Zealand Rhyme"

"For Dr Henry L Bowditch     With warning hand I mark Time's rapid flight     From life's glad morning to it's solemn night;     Yet through t"

"Not with the splendors of the days of old,     The spoil of nations, and barbaric gold;     No weapons wrested from the fields of blood,     Wh"

"We praise not now the poet's art,     The rounded beauty of his song;     Who weighs him from his life apart     Must do his nobler nature wron"

"The cross, if rightly borne, shall be     No burden, but support to thee;"     So, moved of old time for our sake,     The holy monk of Kempen"

"Father! to Thy suffering poor     Strength and grace and faith impart,     And with Thy own love restore     Comfort to the broken heart!"

"Along the aisle where prayer was made,     A woman, all in black arrayed,     Close-veiled, between the kneeling host,     With gliding motion"

"Men of the North-land! where's the manly spirit     Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone?     Sons of old freemen, do we but inherit"

"The South-land boasts its teeming cane,     The prairied West its heavy grain,     And sunset's radiant gates unfold     On rising marts and sa"

""God bless New Hampshire! from her granite peaks     Once more the voice of Stark and Langdon speaks.     The long-bound vassal of the exulting"

"Where are we going? where are we going,     Where are we going, Rubee?     Lord of peoples, lord of lands,     Look across these shining sands,"

"The spring comes slowly up this way. - Christabel.     T is the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird     In the wind-shaken elm or the ma"

"In the solemn days of old,     Two men met in Boston town,     One a tradesman frank and bold,     One a preacher of renown.     Cried the las"

"I.     "And where now, Bayard, will thy footsteps tend?"     My sister asked our guest one winter's day.     Smiling he answered in the Friends' s"