Occasional Poems

John Greenleaf Whittier
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
0. 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
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