John Greenleaf Whittier

So all night long the storm roared on:

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,But spare your country's flag," she said.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The windows of my soul I throwWide open to the sun.

— 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

O, brother man! fold to thy heart thy brother;where pity dwells, the peace of God is there.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Press bravely onward! — not in vain Your peaceful zeal shall find.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawnFor evermore!

— John Greenleaf Whittier

When faith is lost, when honor diesThe man is dead!

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Making their lives a prayer.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time,But spare his "Highland Mary!"

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Perish with him the folly that seeks through evil good.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The hope of all who suffer,The dread of all who wrong.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

I know not where His islands liftBeyond His love and care.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Again the shadow moveth o'erThe dial-plate of time.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Yet sometimes glimpses on my sight,I see the steady gain of man;

— John Greenleaf Whittier

We lack but open eye and earYon maple wood the burning bush.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Better heresy of doctrine than heresy of heart.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The Night is Mother of the Day,The greenest mosses cling.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

God blesses still the generous thought,He quickens into deeds.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Each crisis brings its word and deed.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The Beauty which old Greece or RomeSung, painted, wrought, lies close at home.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

We seemed to see our flag unfurled,The Armageddon of the race.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Nature speaks in symbols and in signs.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Who never wins can rarely lose,Who never climbs as rarely falls.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

To eat the lotus of the NileAnd drink the poppies of Cathay.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The harp at Nature's advent strungHas never died away.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Falsehoods which we spurn to-dayWere the truths of long ago.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Low stir of leaves and dip of oarsAnd lapsing waves on quiet shores.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

All hearts confess the saints elect,The Christian pearl of charity!

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Life is ever lord of DeathAnd Love can never lose its own.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Let the thick curtain fall;How vast the unattained.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Sweeter than any sungAnd all I fail of win.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

God is and all is well.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Beauty seen is never lost, God's colors all are fast.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Their right(colored Americans), like that of their white fellow-citizens, dates back to the dread arbitrament of war. Their bones whiten every stricken field of the Revolution; their feet tracked with blood the snows of Jersey; their toil built up every fortification south of the Potomac; they shared the famine and nakedness of Valley Forge, and the pestilential horrors of the old Jersey prison ship.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The laws of changeless justice bindWe march to fate abreast.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Maud Muller, on a summer's day, Of simple beauty and rustic health.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, When he hummed in court an old love-tune.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

He wedded a wife of richest dower, Looked out in their innocent surprise.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

A manly form at her side she saw, Saying only, "It might have been".

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Weary lawyers with endless tongues.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

— John Greenleaf Whittier

For they the mind of Christ discernWho lean, like John, upon His breast.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

You don't always win your battles, but it's good to know you fought.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.

— John Greenleaf Whittier

The windows of my soul I throw

— John Greenleaf Whittier

Beauty seen is never lost, God's colors all are fast.

— John Greenleaf Whittier