John Greenleaf Whittier

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

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

401. All’s Well 4/6/2010
402. Democracy 4/6/2010
403. Abram Morrison 4/6/2010
404. Winter Roses 4/6/2010
405. Garden 4/6/2010
406. Among The Hills 4/6/2010
407. Memories 4/6/2010
408. A Spiritual Manifestation 4/6/2010
409. An Outdoor Reception 4/6/2010
410. Sweet Fern 4/6/2010
411. Child-Songs 4/6/2010
412. A Christmas Carmen 4/6/2010
413. An Easter Flower Gift 4/6/2010
414. The Eternal Goodness 1/3/2003
415. Seed-Time And Harvest 4/6/2010
416. Storm On Lake Asquam 4/6/2010
417. At Eventide 4/6/2010
418. Burns 4/6/2010
419. My Psalm 4/6/2010
420. A Letter 4/6/2010
421. Birchbrook Mill 4/6/2010
422. Autumn Thoughts 4/6/2010
423. Expostulation 4/6/2010
424. Eva 4/6/2010
425. Cassandra Southwick 4/6/2010
426. Summer By The Lakeside: Lake Winnipesaukee 4/6/2010
427. A Name 4/6/2010
428. The Bartholdi Statue 4/6/2010
429. At Port Royal 4/6/2010
430. Hampton Beach 4/6/2010
431. A Song For The Time 4/6/2010
432. A Summons 4/6/2010
433. Yorktown 4/6/2010
434. A Memorial 4/6/2010
435. First-Day Thoughts 4/6/2010
436. A Lay Of Old Time 4/6/2010
437. Chicago 4/6/2010
438. A Woman 4/6/2010
439. Kallundborg Church ( From The Tent On The Beach) 1/1/2004
440. A Sea Dream 4/6/2010

Comments about John Greenleaf Whittier

  • Hayden Holmes (1/16/2019 3:45:00 PM)

    I really hate poems

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Robert Prindle (6/24/2018 12:32:00 PM)

    I have a poem by JGW written to an ancestor. She was Mary Esther Carter (my mother's maiden name) and lived next to him in Amesbury or Newburysport. All my Carters were from those two towns. Caroline was 32 at the time.
    The poem's titled Valentine. It ends with his signature and 42. Dated 1849. Not sure if this is just handed down through generations or it's publicized.

  • Bertha Haynes ( (4/15/2018 7:41:00 PM)

    Sirs/Madam, I have a question: Would you please help me by telling me the date Don't Quit was written/published (was it written by John Greenleaf Whittier or Edgar Guest?) and the name of the publisher? If there is a cost for this info., please email me and let me know the cost. Thanks.

  • L.b. Strawn (4/23/2012 11:27:00 PM)

    I am not sure my PREVIOUS comment came through to you because I have had so much trouble with your verification codes. Several times I know the numbers were right but I was constantly informed that THE CODE THAT I GAVE WAS WRONG.

  • L.b. Strawn (4/23/2012 11:21:00 PM)

    J.G. Whittier
    I have a book of Longfellow poems, last copyrighted 1893 and published 1894, in which it has the name to whom it was given and the date Christmas '95. It was initialed by the giver as D.W. W. Then there is a very good, two verse poem, hand written, that is signed John G, Whittier, Since Whittier died in 1892, it evidently could not have been him who placed it in the book. Could it have been D.W.W. who placed it there and signed it with John's name just to show the he was the author?
    Do you ever consider the works of present day authors? Would you consider going to my web site and giving me your evaluation of the poems? The 2nd and 3rd are comical. After those are the better ones. Web address: http: // email address: poetman99

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

Randolph Of Roanoke

O Mother Earth! upon thy lap
Thy weary ones receiving,
And o'er them, silent as a dream,
Thy grassy mantle weaving,
Fold softly in thy long embrace
That heart so worn and broken,
And cool its pulse of fire beneath
Thy shadows old and oaken.

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