John Greenleaf Whittier Poems on Light (164 Poems)

The Quaker Alumni (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

From the well-springs of Hudson, the sea-cliffs of Maine,Grave men, sober matrons, you gather again;And, with hearts warmer grown as your heads grow more cool,Play over the old game of going to school. All your strifes and vexations, your whims … Continue reading →

The Last Walk In Autumn (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

I.O’er the bare woods, whose outstretched handsPlead with the leaden heavens in vain,I see, beyond the valley lands,The sea’s long level dim with rain.Around me all things, stark and dumb,Seem praying for the snows to come,And, for the summer bloom … Continue reading →

The Tent On The Beach (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

I would not sin, in this half-playful strain,–Too light perhaps for serious years, though bornOf the enforced leisure of slow pain,–Against the pure ideal which has drawnMy feet to follow its far-shining gleam.A simple plot is mine: legends and runesOf … Continue reading →

Toussaint L’Ouverture (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

‘T WAS night. The tranquil moonlight smileWith which Heaven dreams of Earth, shed downIts beauty on the Indian isle, -On broad green field and white-walled town;And inland waste of rock and wood,In searching sunshine, wild and rude,Rose, mellowed through the … Continue reading →

The Meeting (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

The elder folks shook hands at last,Down seat by seat the signal passed.To simple ways like ours unused,Half solemnized and half amused,With long-drawn breath and shrug, my guestHis sense of glad relief expressed.Outside, the hills lay warm in sun;The cattle … Continue reading →

The Exiles. 1660 (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

The goodman sat beside his doorOne sultry afternoon,With his young wife singing at his sideAn old and goodly tune. A glimmer of heat was in the air,—The dark green woods were still;And the skirts of a heavy thunder-cloudHung over the … Continue reading →

The Bay Of Seven Islands (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

FROM the green Amesbury hill which bears the nameOf that half mythic ancestor of mineWho trod its slopes two hundred years ago,Down the long valley of the Merrimac,Midway between me and the river’s mouth,I see thy home, set like an … Continue reading →

The Prophecy of Samuel Sewall (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

Up and down the village streetsStrange are the forms my fancy meets,For the thoughts and things of to-day are hid,And through the veil of a closed lidThe ancient worthies I see againI hear the tap of the elder’s cane,And his … Continue reading →

The Human Sacrifice (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

I.FAR from his close and noisome cell,By grassy lane and sunny stream,Blown clover field and strawberry dell,And green and meadow freshness, fellThe footsteps of his dream.Again from careless feet the dewOf summer’s misty morn he shook;Again with merry heart he … Continue reading →

The Wreck Of Rivermouth (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)

Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,By dawn or sunset shone across,When the ebb of the sea has left them free,To dry their fringes of gold-green mossFor there the river comes winding down,From salt sea-meadows and uplands brown,And waves on the … Continue reading →