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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!
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
Richer
Hoard
Corn
Lavish
Autumn
Horn
Farmers
Heap
Golden
Poured
Gift
Farmer
High
Horns
November
Wintry
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Again the blackbirds sings the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
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!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Like warp and woof all destinies Are woven fast, Linked in sympathy like the keys Of an organ vast. Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar Break but one Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar Through all will run.
John Greenleaf Whittier
What is good looking, as Horace Smith remarks, but looking good? Be good, be womanly, be gentle,-generous in your sympathies, heedful of the well-being of all around you and, my word for it, you will not lack kind words of admiration.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Beauty is its own excuse.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Despair is infidelity and death.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Rap, rap! upon the well-worn stone, How falls the polished hammer! Rap, rap! the measured sound has grown A quick and merry clamor. Now shape the sole! now deftly curl The glassy vamp around it, And bless the while the bright-eyed girl Whose gentle fingers bound it!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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
Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold: Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature's boldest triumph told.
John Greenleaf Whittier
I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
John Greenleaf Whittier
A charmed life old goodness hath the tares may perish, but the grain is not for death.
John Greenleaf Whittier
We shape ourselves the joy or fear Of which the coming life is made, And fill our Future's atmosphere With sunshine or with shade.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Love hath never known a law beyond its own sweet will.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, Through showers the sunbeams fall For God, who loveth all his works, Has left his Hope with all.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Around the mighty master came The marvels which his pencil wrought, Those miracles of power whose fame Is wide as human thought.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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.
John Greenleaf Whittier