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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

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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
Shout
Gold
Laughs
Laughing
Richer
Told
Harvest
Year
Autumn
Song
Liberal
Fall
Triumph
Boldest
Nature
Gems
Years
Stores

More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier

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Time is hastening on, and we What our fathers are shall be,-- Shadow-shapes of memory! Joined to that vast multitude Where the great are but the good.
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Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress-trees Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play!
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There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
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A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for the coming year. These make a merry christmas!
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What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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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God is good and God is light In this faith I rest secure, Evil can but serve the right, Over all shall love endure.
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Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
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With warning hand I mark Time's rapid flight, From Life's glad morning to its solemn night Yet, through the dear Lord's love, I also show There's light above me by the shade I throw.
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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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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We shape ourselves the joy or fear Of which the coming life is made, And fill our Future's atmosphere With sunshine or with shade.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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They who wander widest lift No more of beauties' jealous veils, Than they who from their doorways see The miracle of flowers and trees.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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All day the darkness and the cold Upon my heart have lain Like shadows on the winter sky Like frost upon the pane
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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What, my soul, was thy errand here? Was it mirth or ease, Or heaping up dust from year to year? Nay, none of these! Speak, soul, aright in His holy sight, Whose eye looks still And steadily on thee through the night To do His will!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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God's providence is not blind, but full of eyes.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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It is well for us if we have learned to listen to the sweet persuasion of the Beatitudes, but there are crises in all lives which require also the emphatic Thou shalt not of the decalogue which the founders wrote on the gateposts of their commonwealth.
John Greenleaf Whittier