His life of sacrifice was not permitted to go unrewarded. Even the Quakers were sometimes unwilling to permit anti-slavery discussion in their conferences. For while he wrought with strenuous will The work his hands had found to do, He heard the fitful music still Of winds that out of dreamland blew. Faults of rhyme were frequent and glaring. Ever since, in town and farm-house, Life has had its ebb and flow; Thrice hath passed the human harvest To its garner green and low. Becomes a corresponding editor of the National Era, which serves as the chief outlet for his poetry and prose for the next decade. He walked by faith and not by sight, Ry love and not by law; The presence of the wrong or right He rather felt than saw.
A collection of his Abolitionist verse, Poems Written during the Progress of the Abolition Question in the United States, appears in print. The airs of heaven blow o'er me; A glory shines before me Of what mankind shall be, -- Pure, generous, brave, and free. Let not the land, once proud of him, Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, Dishonored brow. As he did so, Whittier received his fair share of violent responses, being several times mobbed, stoned, and run out of town. Henceforward, listen as we will, The voices of that hearth are still; Look whe,re we may, the wide earth o'er, Those lighted faces smile no more.
Pity, forgive, but urge them back no moreWho, drunk with passion, flaunt disunion's ragWith its vile reptile blazon. George Fox revolted from the formalism into which the church had sunk. Hatred of cant and doubt of human creeds May well be felt: the unpardonable sin Is to deny the Word of God within! Before that time his writing was hasty and aimed at immediate effect. He was more unselfish, and he had more of tact and skill. The ballad appeared first in St. Whittier's Quaker universalism is better illustrated,however, by the hymn that begins: O Brother Man, fold to thy heart thy brother: Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there; To worship rightly is to love each other, Each smile a hymn, each kindly word a prayer.
The inner light, so far as it is trustworthy, has its source outside of itself, and is to be tested and corrected by God's external revelation. With thy turned-up pantaloons,And thy merry whistled tunes;With thy red lip, redder stillKissed by strawberries on the hill;With the sunshine on thy face,Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace;From my heart I give thee joy, -I was once a barefoot boy! Yet his surroundings had much to do with the unfolding of his genius. After his release, Fountain went on a speaking tour and thanked Whittier for writing his story. Her low, sweet voice, her gold-brown hair, her tender blue eyes seemed Like something he had seen elsewhere or something he had dreamed. Thyself thy own dark jail? The God in whose revelation he believed is a personal God. Give us grace to keepOur faith and patience; wherefore should we leapOn one hand into fratricidal fight,Or, on the other, yield eternal right,Frame lies of laws, and good and ill confound? In simple trust like theirs who heard Beside the Syrian sea The gracious calling of the Lord. He would have paid slaveholders for their slaves, but he scorned to catch their fugitives.
Around this time, the stresses of editorial duties, worsening health, and dangerous mob violence caused him to have a physical breakdown. Whittier was a birthright member of the Society. By the 1840s, Whittier broke with Garrison over how best to accomplish abolitionist goals. I stand ashamed and almost despairing before holy and pure ideals. The Eternal Beauty new and old! He believed that the same inward voice that spoke to him speaks also to men of every Christian sect and even to the heathen. Could it have been D. He was a natural balladist.
Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress-trees 1 Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! De Lord he come To set de people free; An' massa tink it day ob doom, An' we ob jubilee. But vague premonitions of coming power and reputation were there to tempt and to attract. After the event, he wrote a letter describing his experience: My eyes ached all next day from the intensity of my gazing. Picard, furnishes an admirable commentary upon his verse, and enables us to a large extent to understand his theological views. Cemetery Name: Union Cemetery Poet, journalist and abolitionist, John Greenleaf Whittier was known as one of the Fireside Poets, a group of popular American poets during the latter half of the 19th century. To be an abolitionist was to expose oneself to contempt and ostracism, if not to the violence of the mob.
I suffer with no vain pretence Of triumph over flesh and sense, Yet trust the grievous providence, How dark soe'er it seems, may tend, By ways I cannot comprehend, To some unguessed benignant end; That every loss and lapse may gain The clear-aired heights by steps of pain, And never cross is borne in vain. Pass in erkin green along With thy eyes brim full of laughter, And thy mouth as full of song. In May 1838, the publication moved its offices to the newly-opened Pennsylvania Hall on North Sixth Street, which was shortly after burned by a pro-slavery mob. Who vainly the dreams of youth recall. Whittier's later collections of verse, including The Tent on the Beach 1867 , Among the Hills 1868 , and The Pennsylvania Pilgrim 1872 , were also well received. Highly regarded in his lifetime and for a period thereafter, he is now largely remembered for his patriotic poem Barbara Frietchie, Snow-Bound, and a number of poems turned into hymns.
Each new event was to him a challenge, and he discussed it in print. Snowbound, a poem about memory of family and of a heartfelt time that had gone by, was written with such clarity that you feel and know that you too were sitting around that fire, warm and safe, while the winter storm raged outside. But only when on form and word obscure Falls from above the white supernal light We read the mystic characters aright, And life informs the silent portraiture, Until we pause at last, awe-held, before The One ineffable Face, love, wonder, and adore. I was monarch: pomp and joyWaited on the barefoot boy! One long century hath been numbered, And another half-way told Since the rustic Irish gleeman Broke for them the virgin mould. Emerson's light was the light of nature; Whittier's was the light of Christ. The Puritan had renounced allegiance to the papacy, and had asserted his right of immediate access to God, without intervention of priest or sacrament. The day and night Are one with God, and one with them Who see by faith the cloudy hem Of Judgment fringed with Mercy's light! Ye see the curse which overbroodsA world of pain and loss;I hear our Lord's beatitudesAnd prayer upon the cross.