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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.
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
Woods
Close
Basket
Hand
Baskets
Hands
October
Wood
Nuts
Stood
Brown
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
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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Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
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A charmed life old goodness hath the tares may perish, but the grain is not for death.
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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!
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O brother man! fold to thy heart thy brother Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there To worship rightly is to love each other, Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon.
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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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Despair is infidelity and death.
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Love hath never known a law beyond its own sweet will.
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Beauty is its own excuse.
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Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn
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Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
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The still, sad music of humanity.
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Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease Sing the song of great joy that the angels began, Sing the glory to God and of good-will to man!
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And I will trust that He who heeds The life that hides in mead and wold, Who hangs you alder's crimson beads, And stains these mosses green and gold, Will still, as He hath done, incline His gracious care to me and mine.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
John Greenleaf Whittier
From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds.
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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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Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
John Greenleaf Whittier
