O, What though our feet may not tread where Christ trod,
Nor our ears hear the dashing of Galilee’s flood,
Nor our eyes see the cross that he bowed him to bear,
Nor our knees press Gethsemane’s garden of prayer!
Yet, Loved of the Father! thy spirit is near
To the meek and the lowly and penitent here;
And the voice of thy love is the same, even now,
As at Bethany’s tomb, or on Olivet’s brow.
O, the Outward has gone, but in glory and power
The Spirit surviveth the things of an hour;
Unchanged, undecaying, its Pentecost flame
On the heart’s secret altar is burning, the same.
Whittier, John Greenleaf, the American Quaker poet, was born at Haverhill, Massachusetts, Dec. 17, 1807. He began life as a farm-boy and shoemaker, and subsequently became a successful journalist, editor and poet. In 1828 he became editor of the American Manufacturer (Boston), in 1830 of the New England Review, and an 1836 (on becoming Secretary to the American Anti-Slavery Society) of the Pennsylvania Freeman. He was also for some time, beginning with 1847, the corresponding editor of the National Era. In 1840 he removed to Amesbury, Massachusetts, where most of his later works have been written. At the present time  he lives alternately at Amesbury and Boston. His first poetical piece was printed in the Newburyport Free Press in 182… Go to person page >