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He is wisest, who only gives, True to himself, the best he can: Who drifting on the winds of praise, The inward monitor obeys. And with the boldness that confuses fear Takes in the crowded sail, and lets his conscience steer.
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
Giving
Praise
Boldness
Conscience
Wisest
Wind
Crowded
Confuses
Gives
Winds
Obeys
Takes
Lets
Monitor
Fear
Sail
Steer
True
Inward
Steers
Best
Confusion
Drifting
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
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Beneath the winter's snow lie germs of summer flowers.
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The sooner we recognize the fact that the mercy of the Almighty extends to every creature endowed with life, the better it will be for us as men and Christians.
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Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
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Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
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So let it be in God's own might We gird us for the coming fight, And, strong in Him whose cause is ours In conflict with unholy powers, We grasp the weapons he has given,-- The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.
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What miracle of weird transforming Is this wild work of frost and light, This glimpse of glory infinite?
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For still in mutual sufferance lies The secret of true living Love scarce is love that never knows The sweetness of forgiving.
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They tell me, Lucy, thou art dead, that all of thee we loved and cherished has with thy summer roses perished and left, as its young beauty fled, an ashen memory in its stead.
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A felon's cell-- The fittest earthly type of hell!
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Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
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Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing, under the sky's gray arch. Smiling, I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing It is the wind of March.
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Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
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Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold: Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature's boldest triumph told.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And close at hand, the basket stood With nuts from brown October's wood. And close at hand, the basket stood With nuts from brown October's wood.
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Beauty is its own excuse.
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Through the open door A drowsy smell of flowers -grey heliotrope And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette Comes fairly in, and silent chorus leads To the pervading symphony of Peace.
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
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Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn
John Greenleaf Whittier