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For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold Slaves rise up men the olive waves, With roots deep set in battle graves!
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
Roots
Transcends
Battle
Slaves
Deep
Signs
Stills
Waves
Still
Graves
Olive
Men
Wave
Olives
Rise
Tokens
Slave
Manifold
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
All day the darkness and the cold Upon my heart have lain Like shadows on the winter sky Like frost upon the pane
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And sweet and far as from a star, replied a voice which shall not cease, till drowning all the noise of war, it sings the blessed song of peace
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Romance is always young.
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Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
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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.
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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!
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Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Truth is one And, in all lands beneath the sun, Whoso hath eyes to see may see The tokens of its unity.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Despair is infidelity and death.
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Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
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The green earth sends her incense up. From many a mountain shrine From folded leaf and dewey cup She pours her sacred wine.
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Flowers spring to blossom where she walks The careful ways of duty Our hard, stiff lines of life with her Are flowing curves of beauty.
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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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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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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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Better heresy of doctrine than heresy of heart.
John Greenleaf Whittier
From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
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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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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
John Greenleaf Whittier
