Poet John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

  • 301.  
    Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,
    By dawn or sunset shone across, When the ebb of the sea has left them free,
  • 302.  
    Pipes of the misty moorlands,
    Voice of the glens and hills; The droning of the torrents,
  • 303.  
    Beneath the moonlight and the snow
    Lies dead my latest year; The winter winds are wailing low
  • 304.  
    AGAINST the wooded hills it stands,
    Ghost of a dead home, staring through Its broken lights on wasted lands
  • 305.  
    I spread a scanty board too late;
    The old-time guests for whom I wait Come few and slow, methinks, to-day.
  • 306.  
    I.
    Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands, The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands;
  • 307.  
    As Islam's Prophet, when his last day drew
    Nigh to its close, besought all men to say Whom he had wronged, to whom he then should pay
  • 308.  
    'ALL ready?' cried the captain;
    'Ay, ay!' the seamen said; 'Heave up the worthless lubbers, â??
  • 309.  
    CHAMPION of those who groan beneath
    Oppression's iron hand: In view of penury, hate, and death,
  • 310.  
    ON RECEIVING A BASKET OF SEA-MOSSES.
    Thanks for thy gift
  • 311.  
    AS they who, tossing midst the storm at night,
    While turning shoreward, where a beacon shone, Meet the walled blackness of the heaven alone,
  • 312.  
    WHERE are we going? where are we going,
    Where are we going, Rubee? Lord of peoples, lord of lands,
  • 313.  
    Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm,
    On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm? Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm?
  • 314.  
    Dry the tears for holy Eva,
    With the blessed angels leave her; Of the form so soft and fair
  • 315.  
    On the isle of Penikese,
    Ringed about by sapphire seas, Fanned by breezes salt and cool,
  • 316.  
    WE see not, know not; all our way
    Is night, â?? with Thee alone is day: From out the torrent's troubled drift,
  • 317.  
    Blessings on thee, little man,
    Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned-up pantaloons,
  • 318.  
    As Adam did in Paradise,
    To-day the primal right we claim Fair mirror of the woods and skies,
  • 319.  
    A picture memory brings to me
    I look across the years and see Myself beside my mother's knee.
  • 320.  
    Not always as the whirlwind's rush
    On Horeb's mount of fear, Not always as the burning bush
  • 321.  
    The tent-lights glimmer on the land,
    The ship-lights on the sea; The night-wind smooths with drifting sand
  • 322.  
    GOD bless New Hampshire! from her granite peaks
    Once more the voice of Stark and Langdon speaks. The long-bound vassal of the exulting South
  • 323.  
    LIFT again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield,
    Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field. Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board,
  • 324.  
    Though flowers have perished at the touch
    Of Frost, the early comer, I hail the season loved so much,
  • 325.  
    Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growing,
    The solemn vista to the tomb Must know henceforth another shadow,
  • 326.  
    God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above:
    The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love.
  • 327.  
    SCARCE had the solemn Sabbath-bell
    Ceased quivering in the steeple, Scarce had the parson to his desk
  • 328.  
    FROM the green Amesbury hill which bears the name
    Of that half mythic ancestor of mine Who trod its slopes two hundred years ago,
  • 329.  
    1775.
    No Berserk thirst of blood had they,
  • 330.  
    FOR A SUMMER FESTIVAL AT 'THE LAURELS' ON THE MERRIMAC.
    Once more on yonder laurelled height
  • 331.  
    O Dearly loved!
    And worthy of our love! No more Thy aged form shall rise before
  • 332.  
    Up the streets of Aberdeen,
    By the kirk and college green, Rode the Laird of Ury;
  • 333.  
    VOICE of a people suffering long,
    The pathos of their mournful song, The sorrow of their night of wrong!
  • 334.  
    WITH a cold and wintry noon-light.
    On its roofs and steeples shed, Shadows weaving with t e sunlight
  • 335.  
    ANNIE and Rhoda, sisters twain,
    Woke in the night to the sound of rain,
  • 336.  
    Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day,
    Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life;
  • 337.  
    I SAID I stood upon thy grave,
    My Mother State, when last the moon Of blossoms clomb the skies of June.
  • 338.  
    Weary of jangling noises never stilled,
    The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din Of clashing texts, the webs of creed men spin
  • 339.  
    It was the pleasant harvest time,
    When cellar-bins are closely stowed, And garrets bend beneath their load,
  • 340.  
    AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE.
    Among their graven shapes to whom
  • 341.  
    Spare me, dread angel of reproof,
    And let the sunshine weave to-day Its gold-threads in the warp and woof
  • 342.  
    BY fire and cloud, across the desert sand,
    And through the parted waves, From their long bondage, with an outstretched hand,
  • 343.  
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  • 344.  
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  • 345.  
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  • 346.  
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  • 347.  
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  • 348.  
    }
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  • 349.  
    The river hemmed with leaning trees
    Wound through its meadows green;A low, blue line of mountains showed
  • 350.  
    The tree of Faith its bare, dry boughs must shed
    That nearer heaven the living ones may climb;The false must fail, though from our shores of time
Total 522 poems written by John Greenleaf Whittier

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Across the sullen wave
Laid the sudden strength of his red wrath
Like to a shaken glaive:-
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