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Home  »  The Poetical Works In Four Volumes  »  To the Memory of Thomas Shipley

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

Anti-Slavery Poems

To the Memory of Thomas Shipley

  • Thomas Shipley of Philadelphia was a lifelong Christian philanthropist, and advocate of emancipation. At his funeral thousands of colored people came to take their last look at their friend and protector. He died September 17, 1836.


  • GONE to thy Heavenly Father’s rest!

    The flowers of Eden round thee blowing,

    And on thine ear the murmurs blest

    Of Siloa’s waters softly flowing!

    Beneath that Tree of Life which gives

    To all the earth its healing leaves

    In the white robe of angels clad,

    And wandering by that sacred river,

    Whose streams of holiness make glad

    The city of our God forever!

    Gentlest of spirits! not for thee

    Our tears are shed, our sighs are given;

    Why mourn to know thou art a free

    Partaker of the joys of heaven?

    Finished thy work, and kept thy faith

    In Christian firmness unto death;

    And beautiful as sky and earth,

    When autumn’s sun is downward going,

    The blessed memory of thy worth

    Around thy place of slumber glowing!

    But woe for us! who linger still

    With feebler strength and hearts less lowly,

    And minds less steadfast to the will

    Of Him whose every work is holy.

    For not like thine, is crucified

    The spirit of our human pride:

    And at the bondman’s tale of woe,

    And for the outcast and forsaken,

    Not warm like thine, but cold and slow,

    Our weaker sympathies awaken.

    Darkly upon our struggling way

    The storm of human hate is sweeping;

    Hunted and branded, and a prey,

    Our watch amidst the darkness keeping,

    Oh, for that hidden strength which can

    Nerve unto death the inner man!

    Oh, for thy spirit, tried and true,

    And constant in the hour of trial,

    Prepared to suffer, or to do,

    In meekness and in self-denial.

    Oh, for that spirit, meek and mild,

    Derided, spurned, yet uncomplaining;

    By man deserted and reviled,

    Yet faithful to its trust remaining.

    Still prompt and resolute to save

    From scourge and chain the hunted slave;

    Unwavering in the Truth’s defence,

    Even where the fires of Hate were burning,

    The unquailing eye of innocence

    Alone upon the oppressor turning!

    O loved of thousands! to thy grave,

    Sorrowing of heart, thy brethren bore thee.

    The poor man and the rescued slave

    Wept as the broken earth closed o’er thee;

    And grateful tears, like summer rain,

    Quickened its dying grass again!

    And there, as to some pilgrim-shrine,

    Shall come the outcast and the lowly,

    Of gentle deeds and words of thine

    Recalling memories sweet and holy!

    Oh, for the death the righteous die!

    An end, like autumn’s day declining,

    On human hearts, as on the sky,

    With holier, tenderer beauty shining;

    As to the parting soul were given

    The radiance of an opening heaven!

    As if that pure and blessed light,

    From off the Eternal altar flowing,

    Were bathing, in its upward flight,

    The spirit to its worship going!

    1836.