John Greenleaf Whittier

(17 December 1807 – 7 September 1892 / Haverhill, Massachusetts)

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

1. In School-Days 1/3/2003
2. Barbara Frietchie 1/3/2003
3. The Barefoot Boy 1/3/2003
4. Maud Muller 1/3/2003
5. Forgiveness 1/3/2003
6. A Word For The Hour 1/3/2003
7. Flowers In Winter 1/3/2003
8. From "Snow-Bound," 11:1-40, 116-154 1/20/2003
9. By Their Works 12/19/2003
10. Telling The Bees 1/3/2003
11. Burning Drift-Wood 1/3/2003
12. A Dream Of Summer 4/6/2010
13. Immortal Love, Forever Full 1/3/2003
14. Godspeed 1/3/2003
15. Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl 1/1/2004
16. What The Birds Said 1/3/2003
17. An Autograph 1/3/2003
18. Disarmament 1/3/2003
19. Ichabod 1/3/2003
20. A Sabbath Scene 4/6/2010
21. A Day 4/6/2010
22. Massachusetts To Virginia 1/3/2003
23. Barclay Of Ury 1/3/2003
24. My Triumph 1/3/2003
25. Skipper Ireson's Ride 1/3/2003
26. A Memory 4/6/2010
27. Laus Deo 1/3/2003
28. A Mystery 4/6/2010
29. A Lament 4/6/2010
30. Worship 4/6/2010
31. Cassandra Southwick 4/6/2010
32. Randolph Of Roanoke 1/3/2003
33. A Legacy 4/6/2010
34. A Welcome To Lowell 4/6/2010
35. The Eternal Goodness 1/3/2003
36. Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862 4/6/2010
37. My Trust 4/6/2010
38. Abraham Davenport 4/6/2010
39. Stanzas For The Times 1/3/2003
40. A Sea Dream 4/6/2010
Best Poem of John Greenleaf Whittier

In School-Days

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

Within, the master's desk is seen,
Deep-scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,
The jack-knife's carved initial;

The charcoal frescoes on its wall;
Its door's worn sill, betraying
The feet that, creeping slow to school,
Went storming out to playing!

Long years ago a winter sun
Shone over it at setting;
Lit up its western window-panes,
And low eaves' icy fretting. ...

Read the full of In School-Days

What The Birds Said

The birds against the April wind
Flew northward, singing as they flew;
They sang, "The land we leave behind
Has swords for corn-blades, blood for dew."

"O wild-birds, flying from the South,
What saw and heard ye, gazing down?"
"We saw the mortar's upturned mouth,
The sickened camp, the blazing town!

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