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,

and particularly remembered as lyricist of the Christmas hymn, "O Little Town of Bethlehem".

In the Episcopal liturgical calendar he is remembered on January 23.

BackgroundEarly 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 ̵...
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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

  • Jameschessor: luke tells us about the first time followers of christ were called christians. soon after that, they took up an offering to send to their brothers in judea. phillips brooks was asked what he would do to revive a dead church, and he replied,“i would take up a missionary offering!”
  • Ctemephs: okay cte folks help me welcome our new phillips phamily social worker mrs. brooks with a loud cte shout out!!!!!
  • Tweetsaroundfla: a man who lives right, and is right, has more power in his silence than another has by his words. -phillips brooks
  • Georgiatweetz: 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

Charles Baudelaire Poem
Le Poison (The Poison)
 by Charles Baudelaire

Le vin sait revêtir le plus sordide bouge
D'un luxe miraculeux,
Et fait surgir plus d'un portique fabuleux
Dans l'or de sa vapeur rouge,
Comme un soleil couchant dans un ciel nébuleux.

L'opium agrandit ce qui n'a pas de bornes,
Allonge l'illimité,
...

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