For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold; Slaves rise up men; the olive waves, With roots deep set in battle graves!
John Greenleaf WhittierGod's ways seem dark, but, soon or late, They touch the shining hills of day; The evil cannot brook delay, The good can well afford to wait, Give ermined knaves their hour of crime; Yet have the future grand and great, The safe appeal of Truth to Time!
John Greenleaf WhittierBathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
John Greenleaf WhittierThe tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
John Greenleaf Whittier