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Home  »  The Poetical Works In Four Volumes  »  A Spiritual Manifestation

John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892). The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892.

Occasional Poems

A Spiritual Manifestation

  • Read at the President’s Levee, Brown University, 29th, 6th month, 1870.


  • TO-DAY the plant by Williams set

    Its summer bloom discloses;

    The wilding sweetbrier of his prayers

    Is crowned with cultured roses.

    Once more the Island State repeats

    The lesson that he taught her,

    And binds his pearl of charity

    Upon her brown-locked daughter.

    Is ’t fancy that he watches still

    His Providence plantations?

    That still the careful Founder takes

    A part on these occasions?

    Methinks I see that reverend form,

    Which all of us so well know:

    He rises up to speak; he jogs

    The presidential elbow.

    “Good friends,” he says, “you reap a field

    I sowed in self-denial,

    For toleration had its griefs

    And charity its trial.

    “Great grace, as saith Sir Thomas More,

    To him must needs be given

    Who heareth heresy and leaves

    The heretic to Heaven!

    “I hear again the snuffled tones,

    I see in dreary vision

    Dyspeptic dreamers, spiritual bores,

    And prophets with a mission.

    “Each zealot thrust before my eyes

    His Scripture-garbled label;

    All creeds were shouted in my ears

    As with the tongues of Babel.

    “Scourged at one cart-tail, each denied

    The hope of every other;

    Each martyr shook his branded fist

    At the conscience of his brother!

    “How cleft the dreary drone of man

    The shriller pipe of woman,

    As Gorton led his saints elect,

    Who held all things in common!

    “Their gay robes trailed in ditch and swamp,

    And torn by thorn and thicket,

    The dancing-girls of Merry Mount

    Came dragging to my wicket.

    “Shrill Anabaptists, shorn of ears;

    Gray witch-wives, hobbling slowly;

    And Antinomians, free of law,

    Whose very sins were holy.

    “Hoarse ranters, crazed Fifth Monarchists,

    Of stripes and bondage braggarts,

    Pale Churchmen, with singed rubrics snatched

    From Puritanic fagots.

    “And last, not least, the Quakers came,

    With tongues still sore from burning,

    The Bay State’s dust from off their feet

    Before my threshold spurning;

    “A motley host, the Lord’s débris,

    Faith’s odds and ends together;

    Well might I shrink from guests with lungs

    Tough as their breeches leather:

    “If, when the hangman at their heels

    Came, rope in hand to catch them,

    I took the hunted outcasts in,

    I never sent to fetch them.

    “I fed, but spared them not a whit;

    I gave to all who walked in,

    Not clams and succotash alone,

    But stronger meat of doctrine.

    “I proved the prophets false, I pricked

    The bubble of perfection,

    And clapped upon their inner light

    The snuffers of election.

    “And looking backward on my times,

    This credit I am taking;

    I kept each sectary’s dish apart,

    No spiritual chowder making.

    “Where now the blending signs of sect

    Would puzzle their assorter,

    The dry-shod Quaker kept the land,

    The Baptist held the water.

    “A common coat now serves for both,

    The hat ’s no more a fixture;

    And which was wet and which was dry,

    Who knows in such a mixture?

    “Well! He who fashioned Peter’s dream

    To bless them all is able;

    And bird and beast and creeping thing

    Make clean upon His table!

    “I walked by my own light; but when

    The ways of faith divided,

    Was I to force unwilling feet

    To tread the path that I did?

    “I touched the garment-hem of truth,

    Yet saw not all its splendor;

    I knew enough of doubt to feel

    For every conscience tender.

    “God left men free of choice, as when

    His Eden-trees were planted;

    Because they chose amiss, should I

    Deny the gift He granted?

    “So, with a common sense of need,

    Our common weakness feeling,

    I left them with myself to God

    And His all-gracious dealing!

    “I kept His plan whose rain and sun

    To tare and wheat are given;

    And if the ways to hell were free,

    I left them free to heaven!”

    Take heart with us, O man of old,

    Soul-freedom’s brave confessor,

    So love of God and man wax strong,

    Let sect and creed be lesser.

    The jarring discords of thy day

    In ours one hymn are swelling;

    The wandering feet, the severed paths,

    All seek our Father’s dwelling.

    And slowly learns the world the truth

    That makes us all thy debtor,—

    That holy life is more than rite,

    And spirit more than letter;

    That they who differ pole-wide serve

    Perchance the common Master,

    And other sheep He hath than they

    Who graze one narrow pasture!

    For truth’s worst foe is he who claims

    To act as God’s avenger,

    And deems, beyond his sentry-beat,

    The crystal walls in danger!

    Who sets for heresy his traps

    Of verbal quirk and quibble,

    And weeds the garden of the Lord

    With Satan’s borrowed dibble.

    To-day our hearts like organ keys

    One Master’s touch are feeling;

    The branches of a common Vine

    Have only leaves of healing.

    Co-workers, yet from varied fields,

    We share this restful nooning;

    The Quaker with the Baptist here

    Believes in close communing.

    Forgive, dear saint, the playful tone,

    Too light for thy deserving;

    Thanks for thy generous faith in man,

    Thy trust in God unswerving.

    Still echo in the hearts of men

    The words that thou hast spoken;

    No forge of hell can weld again

    The fetters thou hast broken.

    The pilgrim needs a pass no more

    From Roman or Genevan;

    Thought-free, no ghostly tollman keeps

    Henceforth the road to Heaven!