Quote

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

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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
Time
Spare
Doon
Spares
Lettered
Epic
Highland
Rhyme
Tarry
Mary
Bonnie
Teeth
Stately
Give
Blot
Giving
Pomp

More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier

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The age is dull and mean. Men creep, Not walk with blood too pale and tame To pay the debt they owe to shame Buy cheap, sell dear eat. drink, and sleep down-pillowed, deaf to moaning want Pay tithes for soul-insurance keep Six days to Mammon, one to Cant
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What is good looking, as Horace Smith remarks, but looking good? Be good, be womanly, be gentle,-generous in your sympathies, heedful of the well-being of all around you and, my word for it, you will not lack kind words of admiration.
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I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
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The good is always beautiful, the beautiful is good!
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Small leisure have the poor for grief.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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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Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
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Rest if you must, but never quit.
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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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In kindly showers and sunshine bud The branches of the dull gray wood Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks The blue eye of the violet looks.
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Rap, rap! upon the well-worn stone, How falls the polished hammer! Rap, rap! the measured sound has grown A quick and merry clamor. Now shape the sole! now deftly curl The glassy vamp around it, And bless the while the bright-eyed girl Whose gentle fingers bound it!
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The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
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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
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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
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And peace unweaponed conquers every wrong!
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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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Truth should be the first lesson of the child and the last aspiration of manhood for it has been well said that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
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Who fathoms the Eternal Thought? Who talks of scheme and plan? The Lord is God! He needeth not The poor device of man.
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier