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From purest wells of English undefiled None deeper drank than he, the New World's Child, Who in the language of their farm field spoke The wit and wisdom of New England folk.
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
Fields
Spoke
Wisdom
Wit
Undefiled
Child
Folks
Purest
Language
Field
Drank
Wells
English
Farm
Children
Deeper
Folk
World
None
Spokes
England
Farms
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
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
I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And sweet and far as from a star, replied a voice which shall not cease, till drowning all the noise of war, it sings the blessed song of peace
John Greenleaf Whittier
Beauty is its own excuse.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Drop Thy still dews of quietness, Till all our strivings cease Take from our souls the strain and stress, And let our ordered lives confess The beauty of Thy peace.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Yet, in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings I know that God is good!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Falsehoods which we spurn today, were the truths of long ago.
John Greenleaf Whittier
With warning hand I mark Time's rapid flight, From Life's glad morning to its solemn night Yet, through the dear Lord's love, I also show There's light above me by the shade I throw.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And let these altars, wreathed with flowers And piled with fruits, awake again Thanksgivings for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain!
John Greenleaf Whittier
So let it be in God's own might We gird us for the coming fight, And, strong in Him whose cause is ours In conflict with unholy powers, We grasp the weapons he has given,-- The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Rest if you must, but never quit.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
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
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.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
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!
John Greenleaf Whittier
For still in mutual sufferance lies The secret of true living Love scarce is love that never knows The sweetness of forgiving.
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
