John Greenleaf Whittier: Все стихи поэта

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Barbara Frietchie

Up from the meadows rich with corn,

Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand

Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,

Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

John Greenleaf Whittier

Red Riding Hood

On the wide lawn the snow lay deep,

Ridged o’er with many a drifted heap;

The wind that through the pine-trees sung

The naked elm-boughs tossed and swung;

While, through the window, frosty-starred,

Against the sunset purple barred,

We saw the sombre crow flap by,

The hawk’s gray fleck along the sky,

John Greenleaf Whittier

Maud Muller

Maud Muller on a summer's day

Raked the meadow sweet with hay.

Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth

Of simple beauty and rustic health.

Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee

The mock-bird echoed from his tree.

But when she glanced to the far-off town

White from its hill-slope looking down,

John Greenleaf Whittier

Kallundborg Church ( From The Tent on the Beach)

"Tie stille, barn min!

Imorgen kommer Fin,

Fa'er din,

Og gi'er dich Esbern Snares öine og hjerte at lege med!"

Zealand Rhyme.

"Build at Kallundborg by the sea

A church as stately as church may be,

And there shalt thou wed my daughter fair,"

John Greenleaf Whittier

The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage

Gone, gone, — sold and gone

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.

Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings

Where the noisome insect stings

Where the fever demon strews

Poison with the falling dews

Where the sickly sunbeams glare

John Greenleaf Whittier

Telling the Bees

Here is the place; right over the hill

Runs the path I took;

You can see the gap in the old wall still,

And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook.

There is the house, with the gate red-barred,

And the poplars tall;

And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard,

And the white horns tossing above the wall.

John Greenleaf Whittier

The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach )

FOR the fairest maid in Hampton

They needed not to search,

Who saw young Anna favor

Come walking into church,—

Or bringing from the meadows,

At set of harvest-day,

The frolic of the blackbirds,

The sweetness of the hay.

John Greenleaf Whittier

Immortal love, forever full

Immortal love, forever full,

Forever flowing free,

Forever shared, forever whole,

A never ebbing sea!

Our outward lips confess the name

All other names above;

Love only knoweth whence it came,

And comprehendeth love.

John Greenleaf Whittier

Ichabod

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn

Which once he wore!

The glory from his gray hairs gone

Forevermore!

Revile him not, the Tempter hath

A snare for all;

And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath,

Befit his fall!

John Greenleaf Whittier

Mogg Megone - Part I

Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,

Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,

Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on high,

Lonely and sternly, save Mogg Megone?

Close to the verge of the rock is he,

While beneath him the Saco its work is doing,

Hurrying down to its grave, the sea,

And slow through the rock its pathway hewing!

John Greenleaf Whittier

Forgiveness

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been

Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;

So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,

One summer Sabbath day I strolled among

The green mounds of the village burial-place;

Where, pondering how all human love and hate

Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,

Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,

John Greenleaf Whittier

Snowbound, a Winter Idyl

The sun that brief December day

Rose cheerless over hills of gray,

And, darkly circled, gave at noon

A sadder light than waning moon.

Slow tracing down the thickening sky

Its mute and ominous prophecy,

A portent seeming less than threat,

It sank from sight before it set.

John Greenleaf Whittier