The Complete Poetical Works of WhittierWhittier, the ardent abolitionist, wrote many poems on the evils of slavery which are included in this volume as are all of Whittier's other poems. Notes, p517-28. |
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Abraham Davenport Amesbury angels beauty beneath bird bless bloom brave breath brow Brown Dwarf calm Cape Ann chain cloud dark dead dear death dream earth Esbern Snare eternal evermore evil eyes fair faith fall Faneuil Hall fathers fear feet fire flowers freedom Frémont God's Goody Cole grace grave gray green hand hath Haverhill hear heard heart heaven hills holy human Joseph Sturge land light lips living look Lord Merrimac morning mountain never night Norridgewock o'er pain peace Pennacook pines poem poor praise prayer Quaker rock round sail shade shadow shame shine shore silent sing slave slavery smile song soul sound spirit strong summer sunset sweet tears tender thee thine thou thought toil Toussaint L'Ouverture tread truth unto voice wall waves weary Weetamoo Whittier wild wind wood words wrong
Popular passages
Page 399 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own!
Page 46 - Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law. Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only,
Page 341 - Frietchie then, Bowed with her fourscore years and ten; Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down; In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched, hat left and right He glanced; the old flag met his sight. "Halt!
Page 394 - Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground-mole sinks his well; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Page 397 - Unwarmed by any sunset light The gray day darkened into night, A night made hoary with the swarm And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, As zigzag wavering to and fro Crossed and recrossed the winged snow : And ere the early bedtime came The white drift piled the window-frame, And through the glass the clothes-line posts Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.
Page 340 - 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 a garden of the Lord...
Page 399 - ... rage at pane and door, While the red logs before us beat The frost-line back with tropic heat ; And ever, when a louder blast Shook beam and rafter as it passed, The merrier up its roaring draught The great throat of the chimney laughed, The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall ; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Page 341 - But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came ; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word : "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog ! March on !
Page 58 - Trembling, I listened: the summer sun Had the chill of snow ; For I knew she was telling the bees of one Gone on the journey we all must go ! Then I said to myself, " My Mary weeps For the dead to-day : Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps The fret and the pain of his age away." But her dog whined low ; on the doorway sill, With his cane to his chin, The old man sat ; and the chore-girl still Sung to the bees stealing out and in. And the song she was singing ever since In my ear sounds on : — "...
Page 46 - The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, and saw Maud Muller standing still. A form more fair, a face more sweet, ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. And her modest answer and graceful air show her wise and good as she is fair.