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A charmed life old goodness hath the tares may perish, but the grain is not for death.
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
May
Life
Tares
Charmed
Perish
Grain
Hath
Goodness
Death
More quotes by 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
What is really momentous and all-important with us is the present, by which the future is shaped and colored.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease Sing the song of great joy that the angels began, Sing the glory to God and of good-will to man!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Somewhat of goodness, something true From sun and spirit shining through All faiths, all worlds, as through the dark Of ocean shines the lighthouse spark, Attests the presence everywhere Of love and providential care.
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
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.
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
With warning hand I mark Time's rapid flight, From Life's glad morning to its solemn night Yet, through the dear Lord's love, I also show There's light above me by the shade I throw.
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
What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Rap, rap! upon the well-worn stone, How falls the polished hammer! Rap, rap! the measured sound has grown A quick and merry clamor. Now shape the sole! now deftly curl The glassy vamp around it, And bless the while the bright-eyed girl Whose gentle fingers bound it!
John Greenleaf Whittier
Falsehoods which we spurn today, were the truths of long ago.
John Greenleaf Whittier
And peace unweaponed conquers every wrong!
John Greenleaf Whittier
I dimly guess, from blessings known, of greater out of sight.
John Greenleaf Whittier
This is truth the poet sings . . .
John Greenleaf Whittier
The green earth sends her incense up. From many a mountain shrine From folded leaf and dewey cup She pours her sacred wine.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Love hath never known a law beyond its own sweet will.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Again the blackbirds sings the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
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
The child must teach the man.
John Greenleaf Whittier
