Poems (Argent)/To John Greenleaf Whittier
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TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.
(THE QUAKER POET.)
"I would the great world grew like thee,
In reverence and in charity,"—Tennyson.
In reverence and in charity,"—Tennyson.
I LOVE thee, poet, for thou art
A man who owns a Christlike heart,
Who sees a something bright and good
In every sect of brotherhood.
I love thee for thy tender creed
That helps a brother in his need.
A man who owns a Christlike heart,
Who sees a something bright and good
In every sect of brotherhood.
I love thee for thy tender creed
That helps a brother in his need.
'There is no malice in thy song
But smoothly it doth wend along,
Like the pure streamlet and the rill
That music make at their own will.
Thy stream of life, exceeding broad,
Hath its own joy and best reward.
But smoothly it doth wend along,
Like the pure streamlet and the rill
That music make at their own will.
Thy stream of life, exceeding broad,
Hath its own joy and best reward.
In spite of turbulence and noise,
In this our world of doubtful joys,
No tumult of politic strife
Saps out the beauty of thy life.
Compassion in thy accents speak
Protecting love to poor and weak.
In this our world of doubtful joys,
No tumult of politic strife
Saps out the beauty of thy life.
Compassion in thy accents speak
Protecting love to poor and weak.
The poet's greatest gift to thee
Is God's dear gift of charity;
Thou dost no word of scorn let fall
On others, for thou lovest all.
Faith, Hope, and Charity all stir
My heart's sweet poet, Whittier!
Is God's dear gift of charity;
Thou dost no word of scorn let fall
On others, for thou lovest all.
Faith, Hope, and Charity all stir
My heart's sweet poet, Whittier!