John Greenleaf Whittier: A Biography

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J. R. Osgood, 1884 - 413 pages
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Page 25 - For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true church militant ; Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun ; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery ; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks...
Page 271 - And low eaves' icy fretting. It touched the tangled golden curls, And brown eyes full of grieving, Of one who still her steps delayed When all the school were leaving. For near her stood the little boy Her childish favor singled : His cap pulled low upon a face Where pride and shame were mingled. Pushing with restless feet the snow To right and left, he lingered ; — As restlessly her tiny hands The blue-checked apron fingered.
Page 59 - I was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees ; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade ; For my taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone ; Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Whispering sit the garden wall, Talked with me from fall to fall...
Page 200 - 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 257 - O brothers! if my faith is vain, If hopes like these betray, Pray for me that my feet may gain The sure and safer way. And Thou, O Lord! by whom are seen Thy creatures as they be, Forgive me if too close I lean My human heart on Thee!
Page 64 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o
Page 51 - Was never safe from wrath's surprise. Brows saintly calm and lips devout Knew every change of scowl and pout; And the sweet voice had notes more high And shrill for social battle-cry.
Page 257 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Page 348 - There is Whittier, whose swelling and vehement heart Strains the strait-breasted drab of the Quaker apart, And reveals the live Man, still supreme and erect, Underneath the bemummying wrappers of sect ; There was ne'er a man born who had more of the swing Of the true lyric bard and all that kind of thing...
Page 167 - Ere this, thy quiet eye hath smiled My picture of thy youth to see, When, half a woman, half a child, Thy very artlessness beguiled, And folly's self seemed wise in thee ; I too can smile, when o'er that hour The lights of memory backward stream, Yet feel the while that manhood's power Is vainer than my boyhood's dream. Years have passed on, and left their trace, Of graver care and deeper thought ; And unto me the calm, cold face Of manhood, and to thee the grace Of woman's pensive beauty brought.

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