The dreariest spot in all the land to Death they set apart; with scanty grace from Nature's hand, and none from that of Art. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
The garden rose may richly bloom In cultured soil and genial air, To cloud the light of Fashion's room Or droop in Beauty's midnight hair, In lonelier grace, to sun and dew The sweetbrier on the hillside shows Its single… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Here Greek and Roman find themselves alive along these crowded shelves; and Shakespeare treads again his stage, and Chaucer paints anew his age. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
the joy that you give to others is the joy that comes back to you — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
No lance have I, in joust or fight, To splinter in my lady's sight; But, at her feet, how blest were I For any… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
On leaf of palm, on sedge-wrought roll; on plastic clay and leather scroll, man wrote his thoughts; the ages passed, and lo! the Press… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
What does the good ship bear so well? The cocoa-nut with its stony shell, And the milky sap of its inner cell. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Sweeter than any sungMy songs that found no tongue;Nobler than any factMy wish that failed of act.Others shall sing the song,Others shall right the wrong,-Finish what I begin,And all I fail of win. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share
The Present, the Present is all thou hast For thy sure possessing; Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast Till it gives its blessing. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
They who wander widest lift No more of beauties' jealous veils, Than they who from their doorways see The miracle of flowers and trees. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold: Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature's boldest… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
