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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
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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
Dumb
Angel
Shadow
Silence
Soul
Benediction
Come
Sits
Great
Affliction
Angels
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And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.
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Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
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I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
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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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Thee lift me, and I lift thee, and together we ascend.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
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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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Falsehoods which we spurn today, were the truths of long ago.
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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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Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
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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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Give fools their gold, and knaves their power let fortune's bubbles rise and fall who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
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The simple heart that freely asks in love, obtains.
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Rest if you must, but never quit.
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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.
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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.
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Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
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Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
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No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear, But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.
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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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