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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WHITE MAGIC: AN ODE, by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE Poet's Biography First Line: White magic of the silences of snow! Last Line: Up the steep road of life to heaven's gate. Subject(s): Whittier, John Greenleaf (1807-1892) | |||
(Read at the Centenary Celebration of the birth of John Greenleaf Whittier at Faneuil Hall, December 17, 1907) White magic of the silences of snow! Over the northern fields and hills, the moon Spreads her veil o'er the wizardry below; Amongst the ruined treetops is a croon Of the long-vanished populace of spring; There is a glory here Where the lone farmhouse windows, glimmering Across the snow-fields, warm the chilly air. Peace is upon the valley like a dream By Merrimac's swift stream, Where his pure presence made the earth so fair. Time cannot tarnish the glory of the hills: Tides cannot wear the immaterial winds To outworn voids where no loud echo fills The long beach-comber which the sea unbinds; The moon shall light the sun ere these things be; But sooner our glad hearts Know not darkness from sunlight on the sea Ere from the lips of memory departs Thought or speech unpraiseful of Whittier's life, White magic of song and strife -- Strife for the right -- Song for a sake not art's. In the rough farmhouse of his lowly birth The spirit of poetry fired his youthful years; No palace was more radiant on earth Than the rude home where simple joys and tears Filled the boy's soul with the human chronicle Of lives that touched the soil. He heard about him voices -- and he fell To dreams, of the dim past, 'midst his daily toil; Romance and legend claimed his Muse's voice Till the heroic choice Of duty led him to the battle's broil. Song then became a trumpet-blast; he smote The arrogance of evil in the State; The indignation of his music wrote A flaming wrath in councils of debate. 'Twas passion for the justice of God's word -- Man's common heritage Fulfilled in the high name of brotherhood. The oracle and prophet of his age, He led men doubtful between wrong and right Through Song to see the light And smite the evil power with their rage. He helped to seal the doom. His hope was peace With the great and attained. Beyond his will Fate shaped his aims to awful destinies Of vengeful justice -- now valley and hill Groaned with the roar of onset; near and far The terrible, sad cries Of slaughtered men pierced into sun and star; Beyond his will the violence -- but the prize Of freedom, blood had purchased, won to God His praise that all men trod Erect, and clothed in freedom, 'neath the skies. Let thanks be ours for this great passion in him; And praise be our remembrance of his trust; Blessings that no compromise could win him, Like Ichabod, to soil his glory in the dust. Let ours be, too, his spirit of forgiving: We can but master fate By the same knowledge of our brother's living -- Won by matching his virtues, not his hate. Let the white radiance of his Inward Light Be to us, step and sight Up the steep road of life to Heaven's gate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AS THE GREEK'S SIGNAL FLAME by WALT WHITMAN JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER by PHOEBE CARY TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH WHITTIER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SNOW-MESSENGERS by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE TO THE POET WHITTIER, ON HIS 70TH BIRTHDAY by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE TO WHITTIER by JOSEPHINE DEPHINE HENDERSON HEARD FOR WHITTIER'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES IN MEMORY OF JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES SCINTILLA by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |
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