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Falsehoods which we spurn today, were the truths of long ago.
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
Spurn
Falsehoods
Falsehood
Truths
Today
Long
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
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
Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Children have neither past nor future - they rejoice in the present.
John Greenleaf Whittier
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
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
A felon's cell-- The fittest earthly type of hell!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Simple duty hath no place for fear.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
John Greenleaf Whittier
They tell me, Lucy, thou art dead, that all of thee we loved and cherished has with thy summer roses perished and left, as its young beauty fled, an ashen memory in its stead.
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
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
What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells.
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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
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
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
Beneath the winter's snow lie germs of summer flowers.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Thee lift me, and I lift thee, and together we ascend.
John Greenleaf Whittier