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A felon's cell-- The fittest earthly type of hell!
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
Cell
Cells
Prison
Type
Hell
Felon
Felons
Fittest
Earthly
More quotes by John Greenleaf Whittier
Few have borne unconsciously the spell of loveliness.
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The low green tent Whose curtain never outward swings.
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Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time, So Bonnie Doon but tarry Blot out the epic's stately rhyme, But spare his Highland Mary!
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Like warp and woof all destinies Are woven fast, Linked in sympathy like the keys Of an organ vast. Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar Break but one Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar Through all will run.
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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
Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
John Greenleaf Whittier
This is truth the poet sings . . .
John Greenleaf Whittier
What is good looking, as Horace Smith remarks, but looking good? Be good, be womanly, be gentle,-generous in your sympathies, heedful of the well-being of all around you and, my word for it, you will not lack kind words of admiration.
John Greenleaf Whittier
He is wisest, who only gives, True to himself, the best he can: Who drifting on the winds of praise, The inward monitor obeys. And with the boldness that confuses fear Takes in the crowded sail, and lets his conscience steer.
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Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
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And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.
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The simple heart that freely asks in love, obtains.
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Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing, under the sky's gray arch. Smiling, I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing It is the wind of March.
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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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Freedom's soil hath only place For a free and fearless race!
John Greenleaf Whittier
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
Around the mighty master came The marvels which his pencil wrought, Those miracles of power whose fame Is wide as human thought.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Rest if you must, but never quit.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Time is hastening on, and we What our fathers are shall be,-- Shadow-shapes of memory! Joined to that vast multitude Where the great are but the good.
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