John Greenleaf Whittier

"Look on him! through his dungeon grate,     Feebly and cold, the morning light     Comes stealing round him, dim and late,     As if it loathed"

"The Quaker of the olden time!     How calm and firm and true,     Unspotted by its wrong and crime,     He walked the dark earth through."

"Friend of mine! whose lot was cast     With me in the distant past;     Where, like shadows flitting fast,     Fact and fancy, thought and the"

"On page of thine I cannot trace     The cold and heartless commonplace,     A statue's fixed and marble grace.     For ever as these lines I p"

"When Freedom, on her natal day,     Within her war-rocked cradle lay,     An iron race around her stood,     Baptized her infant brow in blood;"

"Thine are all the gifts, O God!     Thine the broken bread;     Let the naked feet be shod,     And the starving fed.     Let Thy children, b"