John Greenleaf Whittier

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.

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.

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers
And piled with fruits, awake again
Thanksgivings for the golden read more

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers
And piled with fruits, awake again
Thanksgivings for the golden hours,
The early and the latter rain!

The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as read more

The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts.

When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.

When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.