Occasional Poems

溄Project Gutenberg EBook, Occasional Poems, by Whittier?Part 3, From Volume IV., The Works of Whittier: Personal Poems #28 in our series by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Title: Occasional Poems
Part 3 From Volume IV., The Works of Whittier: Personal Poems
Author: John Greenleaf Whittier
Release Date: December 2005 [EBook #9583]?[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]?[This file was first posted on October 18, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
? START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PERSONAL POEMS, PART 3 ***
This eBook was produced by David Widger [[email protected] ]
OCCASIONAL POEMS
BY
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
CONTENTS:
EVA?A LAY OF OLD TIME?A SONG OF HARVEST?KENOZA LAKE?FOR AN AUTUMN FESTIVAL?THE QUAKER ALUMNI?OUR RIVER?REVISITED?"THE LAURELS"?JUNE ON THE MERRIMAC?HYMN FOR THE OPENING OF THOMAS STARR KING'S HOUSE OF WORSHIP HYMN FOR THE HOUSE OF WORSHIP AT GEORGETOWN, ERECTED IN MEMORY
OF A MOTHER?A SPIRITUAL MANIFESTATION?CHICAGO?KINSMAN?THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF LONGWOOD?HYMN FOR THE OPENING OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH, ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA LEXINGTON?THE LIBRARY?"I WAS A STRANGER, AND YE TOOK ME IN"?CENTENNIAL HYMN?AT SCHOOL-CLOSE?HYMN OF THE CHILDREN?THE LANDMARKS?GARDEN?A GREETING?GODSPEED?WINTER ROSES?THE REUNION?NORUMBEGA HALL?THE BARTHOLDI STATUE?ONE OF THE SIGNERS
EVA
Suggested by Mrs. Stowe's tale of Uncle Tom's Cabin, and written when the characters in the tale were realities by the fireside of countless American homes.
Dry the tears for holy Eva,?With the blessed angels leave her;?Of the form so soft and fair?Give to earth the tender care.
For the golden locks of Eva?Let the sunny south-land give her?Flowery pillow of repose,?Orange-bloom and budding rose.
In the better home of Eva?Let the shining ones receive her,?With the welcome-voiced psalm,?Harp of gold and waving palm,
All is light and peace with Eva;?There the darkness cometh never;?Tears are wiped, and fetters fall.?And the Lord is all in all.
Weep no more for happy Eva,?Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her;?Care and pain and weariness?Lost in love so measureless.
Gentle Eva, loving Eva,?Child confessor, true believer,?Listener at the Master's knee,?"Suffer such to come to me."
Oh, for faith like thine, sweet Eva,?Lighting all the solemn river,?And the blessings of the poor?Wafting to the heavenly shore!?1852
A LAY OF OLD TIME.
Written for the Essex County Agricultural Fair, and sung at the banquet at Newburyport, October 2, 1856.
One morning of the first sad Fall,?Poor Adam and his bride?Sat in the shade of Eden's wall--?But on the outer side.
She, blushing in her fig-leaf suit?For the chaste garb of old;?He, sighing o'er his bitter fruit?For Eden's drupes of gold.
Behind them, smiling in the morn,?Their forfeit garden lay,?Before them, wild with rock and thorn,?The desert stretched away.
They heard the air above them fanned,?A light step on the sward,?And lo! they saw before them stand?The angel of the Lord!
"Arise," he said, "why look behind,?When hope is all before,?And patient hand and willing mind,?Your loss may yet restore?
"I leave with you a spell whose power?Can make the desert glad,?And call around you fruit and flower?As fair as Eden had.
"I clothe your hands with power to lift?The curse from off your soil;?Your very doom shall seem a gift,?Your loss a gain through Toil.
"Go, cheerful as yon humming-bees,?To labor as to play."?White glimmering over Eden's trees?The angel passed away.
The pilgrims of the world went forth?Obedient to the word,?And found where'er they tilled the earth?A garden of the Lord!
The thorn-tree cast its evil fruit?And blushed with plum and pear,?And seeded grass and trodden root?Grew sweet beneath their care.
We share our primal parents' fate,?And, in our turn and day,?Look back on Eden's sworded gate?As sad and lost as they.
But still for us his native skies?The pitying Angel leaves,?And leads through Toil to Paradise?New Adams and new Eves!
A SONG OF HARVEST
For the Agricultural and Horticultural Exhibition at Amesbury and Salisbury, September 28, 1858.
This day, two hundred years ago,?The wild grape by the river's side,?And tasteless groundnut trailing low,?The table of the woods supplied.
Unknown the apple's red and gold,?The blushing tint of peach and pear;?The mirror of the Powow told?No tale of orchards ripe and rare.
Wild as the fruits he scorned to till,?These vales the idle Indian trod;?Nor knew the glad, creative skill,?The joy of him who toils with God.
O Painter of the fruits and flowers!?We thank Thee