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Small leisure have the poor for grief.

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
Leisure
Grief
Poverty
Small
Poor

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Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
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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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Simple duty hath no place for fear.
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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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The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
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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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O Time and change! - with hair as gray as was my sire's that winter day, how strange it seems, with so much gone of life and love, to still live on!
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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.
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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 still, sad music of humanity.
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Truth is one And, in all lands beneath the sun, Whoso hath eyes to see may see The tokens of its unity.
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Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
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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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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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What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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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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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And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.
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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.
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