John Greenleaf Whittier

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".

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.

So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And, strong read more

So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And, strong in Him whose cause is ours
In conflict with unholy powers,
We grasp the weapons he has given,--
The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.

God gives quietness at last.

God gives quietness at last.

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.