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Simple duty hath no place for fear.

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
Fear
Place
Hath
Duty
Simple

More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier

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I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
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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.
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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!
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Press bravely onward! - not in vainYour generous trust in human kindThe good which bloodshed could not gainYour peaceful zeal shall find.
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All day the darkness and the cold Upon my heart have lain Like shadows on the winter sky Like frost upon the pane
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Romance is always young.
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The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
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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!
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If thou of fortune be bereft, and in thy store there be but left two loaves, sell one, and with the dole, buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.
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The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
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There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
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Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
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A charmed life old goodness hath the tares may perish, but the grain is not for death.
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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.
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Thine to work as well as pray, Clearing thorny wrongs away Plucking up the weeds of sin, Letting heaven's warm sunshine in.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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What miracle of weird transforming Is this wild work of frost and light, This glimpse of glory infinite?
John Greenleaf Whittier
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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
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Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.
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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