Poet John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

  • 151.  
    The Benedictine Echard
    Sat by the wayside well,Where Marsberg sees the bridal
  • 152.  
    Unnoted as the setting of a star
    He passed; and sect and party scarcely knewWhen from their midst a sage and seer withdrew
  • 153.  
    Oh, dwarfed and wronged, and stained with ill,
    Behold! thou art a woman still!And, by that sacred name and dear,
  • 154.  
    Type of two mighty continents!--combining
    The strength of Europe with the warmth and glowOf Asian song and prophecy,--the shining
  • 155.  

  • 156.  
    As a guest who may not stay
    Long and sad farewells to sayGlides with smiling face away,
  • 157.  
    WILDLY round our woodland quarters
    Sad-voiced Autumn grieves;Thickly down these swelling waters
  • 158.  
    Behind us at our evening meal
    The gray bird ate his fill,Swung downward by a single claw,
  • 159.  
    The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
    Their song was soft and low;The blossoms in the sweet May wind
  • 160.  
    THE tossing spray of Cocheco's fall
    Hardened to ice on its rocky wall,As through Dover town in the chill, gray dawn,
  • 161.  
    THE Rabbi Nathan two-score years and ten
    Walked blameless through the evil world, and then,Just as the almond blossomed in his hair,
  • 162.  
    To the God of all sure mercies let my blessing rise today,
    From the scoffer and the cruel He hath plucked the spoil away;Yes, he who cooled the furnace around the faithful three,
  • 163.  
    MEN! if manhood still ye claim,
    If the Northern pulse can thrill,Roused by wrong or stung by shame,
  • 164.  
    The day is closing dark and cold,
    With roaring blast and sleety showers;And through the dusk the lilacs wear
  • 165.  
    THE storm and peril overpast,
    The hounding hatred shamed and still,Go, soul of freedom! take at last
  • 166.  
    Here, while the loom of Winter weaves
    The shroud of flowers and fountains,I think of thee and summer eves
  • 167.  
    It is done!
    Clang of bell and roar of gunSend the tidings up and down.
  • 168.  

  • 169.  
    One Sabbath day my friend and I
    After the meeting, quietlyPassed from the crowded village lanes,
  • 170.  
    THY error, Frémont, simply was to act
    A brave man's part, without the statesman's tact,And, taking counsel but of common sense,
  • 171.  
    A bending staff I would not break,
    A feeble faith I would not shake,Nor even rashly pluck away
  • 172.  

  • 173.  
    The tree of Faith its bare, dry boughs must shed
    That nearer heaven the living ones may climb;The false must fail, though from our shores of time
  • 174.  
    The river hemmed with leaning trees
    Wound through its meadows green;A low, blue line of mountains showed
  • 175.  
  • 176.  
  • 177.  
  • 178.  
  • 179.  
  • 180.  
  • 181.  
  • 182.  
    Spare me, dread angel of reproof,
    And let the sunshine weave to-day Its gold-threads in the warp and woof
  • 183.  
    Among their graven shapes to whom
  • 184.  
    It was the pleasant harvest time,
    When cellar-bins are closely stowed, And garrets bend beneath their load,
  • 185.  
    Weary of jangling noises never stilled,
    The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din Of clashing texts, the webs of creed men spin
  • 186.  
    I SAID I stood upon thy grave,
    My Mother State, when last the moon Of blossoms clomb the skies of June.
  • 187.  
    Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day,
    Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life;
  • 188.  
    ANNIE and Rhoda, sisters twain,
    Woke in the night to the sound of rain,
  • 189.  
    WITH a cold and wintry noon-light.
    On its roofs and steeples shed, Shadows weaving with t e sunlight
  • 190.  
    VOICE of a people suffering long,
    The pathos of their mournful song, The sorrow of their night of wrong!
  • 191.  
    Up the streets of Aberdeen,
    By the kirk and college green, Rode the Laird of Ury;
  • 192.  
    O Dearly loved!
    And worthy of our love! No more Thy aged form shall rise before
  • 193.  
    Once more on yonder laurelled height
  • 194.  
    No Berserk thirst of blood had they,
  • 195.  
    FROM the green Amesbury hill which bears the name
    Of that half mythic ancestor of mine Who trod its slopes two hundred years ago,
  • 196.  
    SCARCE had the solemn Sabbath-bell
    Ceased quivering in the steeple, Scarce had the parson to his desk
  • 197.  
    God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above:
    The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love.
  • 198.  
    Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growing,
    The solemn vista to the tomb Must know henceforth another shadow,
  • 199.  
    Though flowers have perished at the touch
    Of Frost, the early comer, I hail the season loved so much,
  • 200.  
    LIFT again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield,
    Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field. Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board,
Total 471 poems written by John Greenleaf Whittier

Poem of the day

The Wood-Cutter
 by Robert William Service

The sky is like an envelope,
One of those blue official things;
And, sealing it, to mock our hope,
The moon, a silver wafer, clings.
What shall we find when death gives leave
To read--our sentence or reprieve?

I'm holding it down on God's scrap-pile, up on the fag-end of earth;

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