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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!
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
Live
Hair
Much
Strange
Time
Gone
Love
Age
Life
Stills
Sire
Seems
Gray
Change
Aging
Still
Winter
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Beauty is its own excuse.
John Greenleaf Whittier
No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear, But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Yet, in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings I know that God is good!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Despair is infidelity and death.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn
John Greenleaf Whittier
Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The child must teach the man.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Beneath the winter's snow lie germs of summer flowers.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
He is wisest, who only gives, True to himself, the best he can: Who drifting on the winds of praise, The inward monitor obeys. And with the boldness that confuses fear Takes in the crowded sail, and lets his conscience steer.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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
John Greenleaf Whittier
What miracle of weird transforming Is this wild work of frost and light, This glimpse of glory infinite?
John Greenleaf Whittier
The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier
