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If thou of fortune be bereft, and in thy store there be but left two loaves, sell one, and with the dole, buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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John Greenleaf Whittier
Age: 84 †
Born: 1807
Born: December 17
Died: 1892
Died: September 7
Journalist
Lawyer
Poet
Writer
Haverhill
Massachusetts
Two
Store
Soul
Feed
Stores
Sell
Sells
Loaves
Thou
Hyacinths
Fortune
Dole
Left
Bereft
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Despair is infidelity and death.
John Greenleaf Whittier
There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier
What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Through the dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light Up the blackness streaking Knowing God's own time is best, In a patient hope I rest For the full day-breaking!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Drop Thy still dews of quietness, Till all our strivings cease Take from our souls the strain and stress, And let our ordered lives confess The beauty of Thy peace.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And let these altars, wreathed with flowers And piled with fruits, awake again Thanksgivings for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain!
John Greenleaf Whittier
From purest wells of English undefiled None deeper drank than he, the New World's Child, Who in the language of their farm field spoke The wit and wisdom of New England folk.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The still, sad music of humanity.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And light is mingled with the gloom, And joy with grief Divinest compensations come, Through thorns of judgment mercies bloom In sweet relief.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Quite the ugliest face I ever saw was that of a woman whom the world called beautiful. Through its silver veil the evil and ungentle passions looked out, hideous and hateful.
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Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time, So Bonnie Doon but tarry Blot out the epic's stately rhyme, But spare his Highland Mary!
John Greenleaf Whittier
The child must teach the man.
John Greenleaf Whittier
No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear, But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Again the blackbirds sings the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Children have neither past nor future - they rejoice in the present.
John Greenleaf Whittier
