John Greenleaf Whittier

We search the world for truth; we cull
The good, the pure, the beautiful,
From all old read more

We search the world for truth; we cull
The good, the pure, the beautiful,
From all old flower fields of the soul;
And, weary seeker of the best,
We come back laden from out quest,
To find that all the sages said
Is in the Book our mothers read.

The smile of God is victory.

The smile of God is victory.

Again the blackbirds sings; the streams
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April read more

Again the blackbirds sings; the streams
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April showers
The tassels of the maple flowers.

Of all the words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these... it might have been.

Of all the words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these... it might have been.

Simply duty hath no place for fear.

Simply duty hath no place for fear.