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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
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
Swings
Graves
Lows
Green
Tent
Whose
Tents
Never
Curtain
Curtains
Outward
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
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
O Time and change! - with hair as gray as was my sire's that winter day, how strange it seems, with so much gone of life and love, to still live on!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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
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
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
Small leisure have the poor for grief.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And light is mingled with the gloom, And joy with grief Divinest compensations come, Through thorns of judgment mercies bloom In sweet relief.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Thee lift me, and I lift thee, and together we ascend.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Nothing before, nothing behind The steps of faith Fall on the seeming void, and find The Rock beneath.
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
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Press bravely onward! - not in vainYour generous trust in human kindThe good which bloodshed could not gainYour peaceful zeal shall find.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
John Greenleaf Whittier
The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
John Greenleaf Whittier
What, my soul, was thy errand here? Was it mirth or ease, Or heaping up dust from year to year? Nay, none of these! Speak, soul, aright in His holy sight, Whose eye looks still And steadily on thee through the night To do His will!
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
The still, sad music of humanity.
John Greenleaf Whittier
They who wander widest lift No more of beauties' jealous veils, Than they who from their doorways see The miracle of flowers and trees.
John Greenleaf Whittier
I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
John Greenleaf Whittier
