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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
Shadow
Quiet
Darkness
Pane
Cold
Lain
Upon
Frost
Heart
Shadows
Like
Winter
Sky
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Simple duty hath no place for fear.
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Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
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There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
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Thee lift me, and I lift thee, and together we ascend.
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The good is always beautiful, the beautiful is good!
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
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Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
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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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Again the blackbirds sings the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
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Nothing before, nothing behind The steps of faith Fall on the seeming void, and find The Rock beneath.
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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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Around the mighty master came The marvels which his pencil wrought, Those miracles of power whose fame Is wide as human thought.
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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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Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
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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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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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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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Love hath never known a law beyond its own sweet will.
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Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
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