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The Eternal Goodness

O friends! with whom my feet have trod
  The quiet aisles of prayer,
Glad witness to your zeal for God
  And love of man I bear.

I trace your lines of argument;
  Your logic linked and strong
I weigh as one who dreads dissent,
  And fears...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
From "Snow-Bound"

The world TRANSFORMED
UNWARMED by any sunset light
The gray day darkened into night,
A night made hoary with the swarm
And whirl-dance of the blinding storm,
As zigzag, wavering to and fro,
Crossed and recrossed the wingëd snow:
And ere the...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
In School-Days

Still sits the school-house by the road,
  A ragged beggar sunning;
Around it still the sumachs grow,
  And blackberry vines are running.

Within, the master’s desk is seen,
  Deep scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
The Two Angels

God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above:
The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love.

“Arise,” He said, “my angels! a wail of woe and sin
Steals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within.

“My harps take up the mournful strain...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
Centennial Hymn

Our fathers’ God! from out whose hand
The centuries fall like grains of sand,
We meet to-day, united, free,
And loyal to our land and Thee,
To thank Thee for the era done,
And trust Thee for the opening one.

Here, where of old, by Thy design,...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
In the "Old South"

She came and stood in the Old South Church
  A wonder and a sign,
With a look the old-time sibyls wore,
  Half-crazed and half-divine.

Save the mournful sackcloth about her wound,
  Unclothed as the primal mother,
With limbs that trembled and...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
Mulford

Unnoted as the setting of a star
  He passed; and sect and party scarcely knew
  When from their midst a sage and seer withdrew
To fitter audience, where the great dead are
In God’s republic of the heart and mind,
Leaving no purer, nobler soul behind.
Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
An Autograph

I write my name as one,
On sands by waves o’errun
Or winter’s frosted pane,
Traces a record vain.

Oblivion’s blankness claims
Wiser and better names,
And well my own may pass
As from the strand or glass.

Wash on, O waves of time...

Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier
The Cardinal Bird

A day and then a week passed by:
  The redbird hanging from the sill
Sang not; and all were wondering why
    It was so still—
When one bright morning, loud and clear,
Its whistle smote my drowsy ear,
Ten times repeated, till the sound
...

Poet: William Davis Gallagher
Autumn in the West

  the autumn time is with us. Its approach
Was heralded, not many days ago,
By hazy skies that veiled the brazen sun,
And sea-like murmurs from the rustling corn,
And low-voiced brooks that wandered drowsily
By pendent clusters of empurpling grapes...

Poet: William Davis Gallagher