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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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John Greenleaf Whittier
Age: 84 †
Born: 1807
Born: December 17
Died: 1892
Died: September 7
Journalist
Lawyer
Poet
Writer
Haverhill
Massachusetts
Upon
Frost
Heart
Shadows
Like
Winter
Sky
Shadow
Quiet
Darkness
Pane
Cold
Lain
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
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Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
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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.
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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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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
John Greenleaf Whittier
The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
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What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
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I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
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
Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn!
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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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Romance is always young.
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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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Quite the ugliest face I ever saw was that of a woman whom the world called beautiful. Through its silver veil the evil and ungentle passions looked out, hideous and hateful.
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Beauty is its own excuse.
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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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Rest if you must, but never quit.
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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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There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
John Greenleaf Whittier
With silence only as their benediction, God's angels come Where in the shadow of a great affliction, The soul sits dumb!
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