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What does the good ship bear so well? The cocoa-nut with its stony shell, And the milky sap of its inner cell.
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
Well
Nuts
Stony
Good
Cells
Cocoa
Ships
Milky
Bear
Sap
Inner
Shell
Bears
Shells
Doe
Cell
Wells
Ship
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
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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Romance is always young.
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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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The still, sad music of humanity.
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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!
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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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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.
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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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Small leisure have the poor for grief.
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And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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.
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What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
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Despair is infidelity and death.
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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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This is truth the poet sings . . .
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And light is mingled with the gloom, And joy with grief Divinest compensations come, Through thorns of judgment mercies bloom In sweet relief.
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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
Beauty is its own excuse.
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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
