He rises easily to poetic heights. ‘Massachusetts to Virginia’ has a magnificent swing and pulsates with passion. When Webster’s defection spread anger, consternation, and grief through the ranks of the party of Freedom, Whittier penned the burning stanzas to which he gave the title ‘Ichabod.’ This anti-slavery poem was published in _Songs of Labor_, and is justly accounted one of the loftiest expressions of Whittier’s genius. _In War Time and Other Poems_ records the anxieties, fears, hopes, and exultations incident to the great conflict between North and South. Says the poet:-- ‘... our voices take A sober tone; our very household songs Are heavy with a nation’s griefs and wrongs; And innocent mirth is chastened for the sake Of the brave hearts that nevermore shall beat, The eyes that smile no more, the unreturning feet!’ The volume contains ‘Barbara Frietchie,’ perhaps the most popular ballad of the war, based on an incident told to Whittier by Mrs. Southworth, the novelist. One must reconstruct the times to comprehend the extraordinary effect produced by this dramatic little incident. Iconoclasts have made havoc with the story. If their points are well taken, we have one proof more of the superiority of legend over history for poetic purposes. Other noteworthy poems in this volume are ‘Thy Will be Done’ and the magnificent hymn ‘Ein Feste Burg ist Unser Gott.’ We wait beneath the furnace blast The pangs of transformation; Not painlessly doth God recast And mould anew the nation. Hot burns the fire Where wrongs expire; Nor spares the hand That from the land Uproots the ancient evil. VI _SNOW-BOUND_, _TENT ON THE BEACH_, _PENNSYLVANIA PILGRIM_, _VISION OF ECHARD_ The volume of 1860, _Home Ballads and Poems_, contained two perfect examples of Whittier’s art, namely, ‘My Playmate’ and ‘Telling the Bees.’ To inquire what far-off experiences in the poet’s life prompted the making of these exquisite ‘ballads,’ as Whittier called them, were idle, poets being proverbially given to the use of the imagination. The music of the dark pines on Ramoth Hill could be no sweeter than it is. The theme of either poem is common enough among bards, and perennially attractive. ‘My Playmate’ and ‘Telling the Bees,’ together with ‘Amy Wentworth’ and ‘The Countess,’ all show, though in varying degrees, how pregnant with poetic suggestion were the scenes amid which Whittier passed his life. Even that urban and aristocratic little poem ‘Amy Wentworth’ derives half its charm from the world of associations called up by the fog wreaths, the pebbled beach, and the sweet brier blooming on Kittery-side. The above-named poems, together with ‘The Barefoot Boy’ and ‘In School-Days,’ suggest a phase of Whittier’s genius which found complete expression in the ‘winter idyl,’ a picture of life in the old East Haverhill homestead.