John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

O HOLY FATHER! just and true
Are all Thy works and words and ways,
And unto Thee alone are due
Thanksgiving and eternal praise!
...

I spread a scanty board too late;
The old-time guests for whom I wait
Come few and slow, methinks, to-day.
Ah! who could hear my messages
...

Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,
Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,
Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on high,
...

LAST week — the Lord be praised for all His mercies
To His unworthy servant! — I arrived
Safe at the Mission, via Westport; where
...

A BLUSH as of roses
Where rose never grew!
Great drops on the bunch-grass,
But not of the dew!
...

I LOVE the old melodious lays
Which softly melt the ages through,
The songs of Spenser’s golden days,
Arcadian Sidney’s silvery phrase,
...

THE South-land boasts its teeming cane,
The prairied West its heavy grain,
And sunset's radiant gates unfold
On rising marts and sands of gold!
...

Fold her, O Father, in Thine arms,
And let her henceforth be
...

She sang alone, ere womanhood had known
The gift of song which fills the air to-day
Tender and sweet, a music all her own
...

O dwellers in the stately towns,
What come ye out to see?
This common earth, this common sky,
This water flowing free?
...