John Greenleaf Whittier

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

John Greenleaf Whittier Poems

481. Forgiveness 1/3/2003
482. In School-Days 1/3/2003
483. Barbara Frietchie 1/3/2003

Comments about John Greenleaf Whittier

  • 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.

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  • 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

Barbara Frietchie

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain-wall;

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the ...

Read the full of Barbara Frietchie

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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