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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!

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
Hath
Soil
Race
Freedom
Free
Place
Fearless

More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier

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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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Children have neither past nor future - they rejoice in the present.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The simple heart that freely asks in love, obtains.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The sooner we recognize the fact that the mercy of the Almighty extends to every creature endowed with life, the better it will be for us as men and Christians.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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God's providence is not blind, but full of eyes.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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
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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
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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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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A felon's cell-- The fittest earthly type of hell!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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
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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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time, So Bonnie Doon but tarry Blot out the epic's stately rhyme, But spare his Highland Mary!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Small leisure have the poor for grief.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Through the dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light Up the blackness streaking Knowing God's own time is best, In a patient hope I rest For the full day-breaking!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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The good is always beautiful, the beautiful is good!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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Truth is one And, in all lands beneath the sun, Whoso hath eyes to see may see The tokens of its unity.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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!
John Greenleaf Whittier