John Greenleaf Whittier

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

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

441. A Sea Dream 4/6/2010
442. Abraham Davenport 4/6/2010
443. Worship 4/6/2010
444. Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862 4/6/2010
445. A Welcome To Lowell 4/6/2010
446. My Trust 4/6/2010
447. A Legacy 4/6/2010
448. Randolph Of Roanoke 1/3/2003
449. Stanzas For The Times 1/3/2003
450. The Pumpkin 1/3/2003
451. The Worship Of Nature 1/3/2003
452. A Lament 4/6/2010
453. A Mystery 4/6/2010
454. Laus Deo 1/3/2003
455. My Triumph 1/3/2003
456. Skipper Ireson's Ride 1/3/2003
457. Barclay Of Ury 1/3/2003
458. At Last 4/6/2010
459. A Memory 4/6/2010
460. Massachusetts To Virginia 1/3/2003
461. A Day 4/6/2010
462. A Greeting 4/6/2010
463. A Sabbath Scene 4/6/2010
464. What The Birds Said 1/3/2003
465. Disarmament 1/3/2003
466. An Autograph 1/3/2003
467. Immortal Love, Forever Full 1/3/2003
468. Godspeed 1/3/2003
469. Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl 1/1/2004
470. A Dream Of Summer 4/6/2010
471. Ichabod 1/3/2003
472. Burning Drift-Wood 1/3/2003
473. By Their Works 12/19/2003
474. Telling The Bees 1/3/2003
475. From "Snow-Bound," 11:1-40, 116-154 1/20/2003
476. April 4/6/2010
477. Flowers In Winter 1/3/2003
478. A Word For The Hour 1/3/2003
479. Maud Muller 1/3/2003
480. Forgiveness 1/3/2003

Comments about John Greenleaf Whittier

  • 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. RPrindle@verizon.net

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  • Bertha Haynes (bhaynes72@aol.com) (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: //sbcglobalpwp.att.net/p/e/petezman/ 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

The Pumpkin

Oh, greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,
The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,
And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,
With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold,
Like that which o'er Nineveh's prophet once grew,
While he waited to know that his warning was true,
And longed for the storm-cloud, and listened in vain
For the rush of the whirlwind and red fire-rain.

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