The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf WhittierAll of Whittier's poetry works, collected and illustrated. |
Contents
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Common terms and phrases
angels beauty beneath bird bless bloom breath brow BROWN DWARF calm Cape Ann cloud dark dead dear dream earth Esbern Snare eternal evermore evil eyes face fair faith fall fathers fear feet fire flowers FRANCIS DANIEL PASTORIUS freedom God's gold golden goodwife Goody Cole grace grave gray green hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy human land light lips living Loch Maree look Lord morning mountain never Newbury town night Norembega Norridgewock o'er pain peace Pennacook pines pity poor praise pray prayer Quaker rills round sail shade shadow shame shine shore silent sing slave slavery smile song soul sound spirit strong summer sunset sweet tears tender thee thine thou thought toil tread trees truth unto voice wall waves weary Weetamoo Wenham Lake wigwam wild wind wood words wrong
Popular passages
Page 144 - But let its humbled sons, instead, From sea to lake, A long lament, as for the dead, In sadness make. Of all we loved and honored, naught Save power remains ; A fallen angel's pride of thought, Still strong in chains. All else is gone ; from those great eyes The soul has fled : When faith is lost, when honor dies, The man is dead...
Page 318 - But warm, sweet, tender, even yet A present help is He ; And faith has still its Olivet, And love its Galilee. The healing of His seamless dress Is by our beds of pain ; We touch Him in life's throng and press, And we are whole again.
Page 202 - MAUD MULLER, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast,— A wish, that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing...
Page 268 - But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word: "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!
Page 194 - Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can ! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward. Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew ; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat : All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil : Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground...
Page 202 - The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast, — A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees to greet the maid ; And asked a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.
Page 247 - Give fools their gold, and knaves their power ; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall ; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all. For he who blesses most is blest ; And God and man shall own his worth Who toils to leave as his bequest An added beauty to the earth.
Page 194 - Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild-flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground-mole sinks his well; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Page 204 - But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain. And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, And she heard the little...
Page 286 - So all night long the storm roared on : The morning broke without a sun ; In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Nature's geometric signs, In starry flake, and pellicle, All day the hoary meteor fell ; And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown, On nothing we could call our own.