Who is J. G. Holland

Josiah Gilbert Holland (July 24, 1819 – October 12, 1881) was an American novelist and poet who also wrote under the pseudonym Timothy Titcomb. He helped to found and edit Scribner's Monthly (afterwards the Century Magazine), in which appeared his novels, Arthur Bonnicastle, The Story of Sevenoaks, Nicholas Minturn. In poetry he wrote "Bitter-Sweet" (1858), "Kathrina", the lyrics to the Methodist hymn "There's a Song in the Air", and many others.

Biography

Born in Belchertown, Massachusetts, on July 24, 1819, Holland grew up in a poor family struggling to make ends meet. After a time, Josiah was forced to work in a factory to help the family. He then spent a short time studying at Northampton (Massachusetts) High School before withdrawing due to ill health. Late...
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J. G. Holland Poems

  • A Christmas Carol
    There's a song in the air!
    There's a star in the sky!
    There's a mother's deep prayer
    And a baby's low cry!...
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Top 10 most used topics by J. G. Holland

Song 1 Wonderful 1 Rejoice 1 Bring 1 Deep 1 King 1 Sweet 1 Earth 1 World 1 Star 1


J. G. Holland Quotes

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Comments about J. G. Holland

Robyn_1993: g family of holland. beyond these signs of his act promo voucher iherb coupon code vitamin protein s ng a tall straight j
Birdwatchersa: god gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into its nest. ~j.g. holland
Deserve: who never walks save where they see human tracks makes no discoveries. - j. g. holland
Cookaburr: "god gives every bird its food, but he doesn't throw it in the nest." ~ j.g. holland
Curtdudley: softball final: georgia southern 7-3-1 james madison 12-13-3 wp: berry (6-0) lp: holland (3-9) hr: g - ball (2), conklin (2); j - shifflett (6), h. hall (5) dukes 18-7, 3-1 sbc eagles 11-15, 1-3 sbc game 2 tomorrow 2pm
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Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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