Who is Phillips Brooks

Phillips Brooks (December 13, 1835 – January 23, 1893) was an American Episcopal clergyman and author, long the Rector of Boston's Trinity Church and briefly Bishop of Massachusetts. He wrote the lyrics of the Christmas hymn, "O Little Town of Bethlehem".

He is honored on the Episcopal Church liturgical calendar on January 23.

Background

Early life and education

Born in Boston, Brooks was descended through his father, William Gray Brooks, from the Rev. John Cotton; through his mother, Mary Ann Phillips, he was a great-grandson of Samuel Phillips, Jr., founder of Phillips Academy (Andover, Massachusetts). Three of Brooks' five brothers – Frederic, Arthur and John Cotton – were eventually ordained in the Episcopal Church.

Phill...
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Phillips Brooks Poems

  • O Little Town Of Bethlehem
    O little town of Bethlehem,
    How still we see thee lie!
    Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
    The silent stars go by:...
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Top 10 most used topics by Phillips Brooks

Love 1 Gift 1 Dear 1 I Love You 1 World 1 Together 1 Son 1 Sleep 1 Peace 1 Night 1


Phillips Brooks Quotes

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Comments about Phillips Brooks

Soxgarden: this brooks boyer thing is interesting. is he a douche? a ted phillips? a yes man. hawk pretty much said it. jason said his new contract negotiations were "kind of a pain, silly and unpleasant", while boyer said it went smoothly. another yes man it looks like. jerry's flunky.
Georgiatweetz: a man who lives right, and is right, has more power in his silence than another has by his words. -phillips brooks
Coloradotweetz: a man who lives right, and is right, has more power in his silence than another has by his words. -phillips brooks
Arizonatweetz: a man who lives right, and is right, has more power in his silence than another has by his words. -phillips brooks
Conntweetz: a man who lives right, and is right, has more power in his silence than another has by his words. -phillips brooks
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Poem of the day

Alfred Lord Tennyson Poem
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 067
 by Alfred Lord Tennyson

When on my bed the moonlight falls,
I know that in thy place of rest
By that broad water of the west,
There comes a glory on the walls:

Thy marble bright in dark appears,
As slowly steals a silver flame
Along the letters of thy name,
...

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