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SNOW-BOUND.
A WINTER IDYL.
TO THE MEMORY
OF
THE HOUSEHOLD IT DESCRIBES,
THIS POEM IS DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR.
The inmates of the family at the Whittier homestead who are referred to in the poem were my father, mother, my brother and two sisters, and my uncle and aunt both unmarried. In addition, there was the district school-master who boarded with us. The "not unfeared, half-welcome guest" was Harriet Livermore, daughter of Judge... more...
THE QUAKER OF THE OLDEN TIME.
THE Quaker of the olden time!How calm and firm and true,Unspotted by its wrong and crime,He walked the dark earth through.The lust of power, the love of gain,The thousand lures of sinAround him, had no power to stainThe purity within.
With that deep insight which detectsAll great things in the small,And knows how each man's life affectsThe spiritual life of all,He walked by faith and not by sight,By love and not by... more...
THE LITTLE IRON SOLDIER
OR, WHAT AMINADAB IVISON DREAMED ABOUT.
AMINADAB IVISON started up in his bed. The great clock at the head of the staircase, an old and respected heirloom of the family, struck one.
"Ah," said he, heaving up a great sigh from the depths of his inner man,"I've had a tried time of it."
"And so have I," said the wife. "Thee's been kicking and threshing about all night. I do wonder what ails thee."
And well she might; for... more...
BOSTON, May 8, 1678.
I remember I did promise my kind Cousin Oliver (whom I pray God to have always in his keeping), when I parted with him nigh unto three months ago, at mine Uncle Grindall's, that, on coming to this new country, I would, for his sake and perusal, keep a little journal of whatsoever did happen both unto myself and unto those with whom I might sojourn; as also, some account of the country and its marvels, and mine own... more...
THE township of Haverhill, even as late as the close of the seventeenth century, was a frontier settlement, occupying an advanced position in the great wilderness, which, unbroken by the clearing of a white man, extended from the Merrimac River to the French villages on the St. Francois. A tract of twelve miles on the river and three or four northwardly was occupied by scattered settlers, while in the centre of the town a compact village had... more...
PROEM
I LOVE the old melodious laysWhich softly melt the ages through,The songs of Spenser's golden days,Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew.Yet, vainly in my quiet hoursTo breathe their marvellous notes I try;I feel them, as the leaves and flowersIn silence feel the dewy showers,And drink with glad, still lips the blessing of the sky.The rigor of a frozen clime,The harshness of an untaught... more...
JUSTICE AND EXPEDIENCY
OR, SLAVERY CONSIDERED WITH A VIEW TO ITS RIGHTFUL AND EFFECTUAL REMEDY, ABOLITION.
(1833.)"There is a law above all the enactments of human codes, the samethroughout the world, the same in all time,—such as it was beforethe daring genius of Columbus pierced the night of ages, and openedto one world the sources of wealth and power and knowledge, toanother all unutterable woes; such as it is at this day: it is thelaw... more...
IT may be inquired of me why I seek to agitate the subject of Slavery in New England, where we all acknowledge it to be an evil. Because such an acknowledgment is not enough on our part. It is doing no more than the slave-master and the slave-trader. "We have found," says James Monroe, in his speech on the subject before the Virginia Convention, "that this evil has preyed upon the very vitals of the Union; and has been prejudicial to all the... more...
POEMS OF NATURE
THE FROST SPIRIT
He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comes You may trace his footsteps nowOn the naked woods and the blasted fields and the brown hill's withered brow.He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where their pleasant green came forth,And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have... more...
THE INNER LIFE
THE AGENCY OF EVIL.
From the Supernaturalism of New England, in the Democratic Review for 1843.
IN this life of ours, so full of mystery, so hung about with wonders, so written over with dark riddles, where even the lights held by prophets and inspired ones only serve to disclose the solemn portals of a future state of being, leaving all beyond in shadow, perhaps the darkest and most difficult problem which presents itself is... more...