John Greenleaf Whittier

Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
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Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
Sing the song of great joy that the angels began,
Sing the glory to God and of good-will to man!

Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains read more

Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all.

Clothe with life the weak intent, let me be the thing I meant.

Clothe with life the weak intent, let me be the thing I meant.

The green earth sends her incense up. From many a mountain shrine; From folded leaf and dewey cup read more

The green earth sends her incense up. From many a mountain shrine; From folded leaf and dewey cup She pours her sacred wine.

Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead read more

Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play!