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.

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. Telling the Bees (l. 1-4). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.)

Just the same as a month before,?
The house and the trees,
The barn's brown gable, the vine by the door,?
Nothing changed but the hives of bees.

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. Telling the Bees (l. 33-36). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.)

And the song she was singing ever since
In my ear sounds on:?
"Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!
Mistress Mary is dead and gone!"

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. Telling the Bees (l. 53-56). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.)

O Time and Change!?with hair as gray
As was my sire's that winter day,
How strange it seems, with so much gone
Of life and love, to still live on!

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. repr. In The Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier, ed. W. Garrett Horder (1911). Snow-Bound, a Winter Idyll, l. 179-182 (1866).)

Went drearily singing the chore-girl small,
Draping each hive with a shred of black.

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. Telling the Bees (l. 39-40). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.)

Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. The Barefoot Boy (l. 1-2). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.)

Oh, for boyhood's painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor's rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools.

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. repr. In The Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier, ed. W. Garrett Horder (1911). The Barefoot Boy, l. 19-22 (1855).)

For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks;
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy,?
Blessings on the barefoot boy!

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. The Barefoot Boy (l. 40-45). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.)

Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. The Barefoot Boy (l. 101-102). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.)

Of all that Orient lands can vaunt,
Of marvels with our own competing,
The strangest is the Haschish plant,
And what will follow on its eating.

(John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), U.S. poet. The Haschish, st. 1.)