John Greenleaf Whittier Poems on War & Peace (118 Poems)
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The Pennsylvania (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PreludeI sing the Pilgrim of a softer climeAnd milder speech than those brave men’s who broughtTo the ice and iron of our winter timeA will as firm, a creed as stern, and wroughtWith one mailed hand, and with the other … Continue reading
Among the Hills (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the red pennons of the cardinal-flowersHang motionless upon their upright staves.The sky is hot and hazy, and the wind,Vying-weary with its … Continue reading
Mogg Megone – Part II. (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
‘Tis morning over Norridgewock, —On tree and wigwam, wave and rock.Bathed in the autumnal sunshine, stirredAt intervals by breeze and bird,And wearing all the hues which glowIn heaven’s own pure and perfect bow,That glorious picture of the air,Which summer’s light-robed … Continue reading
The Chapel of the Hermits (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
“I do believe, and yet, in grief,I pray for help to unbelief;For needful strength aside to layThe daily cumberings of my way. “I ‘m sick at heart of craft and cant,Sick of the crazed enthusiast’s rant,Profession’s smooth hypocrisies,And creeds of … Continue reading
Mabel Martin (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
A HARVEST IDYL. PROEM.I CALL the old time back: I bring my layin tender memory of the summer dayWhen, where our native river lapsed away, We dreamed it over, while the thrushes madeSongs of their own, and the great pine-trees … Continue reading
Mogg Megone – Part III. (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
Ah! weary Priest! — with pale hands pressedOn thy throbbing brow of pain,Baffled in thy life-long quest,Overworn with toiling vain,How ill thy troubled musings fitThe holy quiet of a breastWith the Dove of Peace at rest,Sweetly brooding over it.Thoughts are … Continue reading
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 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
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