The Works of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1892
 

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Page 365 - Yet die not; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
Page 241 - Over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night.
Page 246 - How they pale, Ancient myth and song and tale, In this wonder of our days, When the cruel rod of war Blossoms white with righteous law, And the wrath of man is praise!
Page 246 - It is done ! In the circuit of the sun Shall the sound thereof go forth. It shall bid the sad rejoice, It shall give the dumb a voice, It shall belt with joy the earth ! Ring and swing, Bells of joy ! On morning's wing Send the song of praise abroad ! With a sound of broken chains Tell the nations that He reigns, Who alone is Lord and God ! THE PEACE AUTUMN.
Page 241 - 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 302 - All through the long, bright days of June Its leaves grew green and fair, And waved in hot midsummer's noon Its soft and yellow hair.
Page 245 - IT is done ! Clang of bell and roar of gun Send the tidings up and down. How the belfries rock and reel ! How the great guns, peal on peal, Fling the joy from town to town ! Eing, O bells ! Every stroke exulting tells Of the burial hour of crime.
Page 302 - Urged by the good host's daughter, a maiden young and fair, Lifting to light her sweet blue eyes and pride of soft brown hair...
Page 34 - Shall outraged Nature cease to feel ? Shall Mercy's tears no longer flow ? Shall ruffian threats of cord and steel, The dungeon's gloom, the assassin's blow, Turn back the spirit roused to save The Truth, our Country, and the Slave ? Of human skulls that shrine was made, Round which the priests of Mexico Before their loathsome idol prayed ; Is Freedom's altar fashioned so...
Page 35 - What ! preach and kidnap men ? Give thanks — and rob Thy own afflicted poor ? Talk of Thy glorious liberty, and then Bolt hard the captive's door ? What ! servants of Thy own Merciful Son, who came to seek and save The homeless and the outcast, — fettering down The tasked and plundered slave ! Pilate and Herod, friends ! Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine ! Just God and holy ! is that church, which lends Strength to the spoiler, Thine...

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