A curated compendium of poetry and prose from the award-winning poet Mary Oliver, including the book-length masterpiece The Leaf and the Cloud, the collection What Do We Know, andessays from Long Life—with a foreword by fellow Pulitzer Prize-winning author of Postcolonial Love Poem Natalie Diaz.
For the many admirers of Mary Oliver's breathtaking poetry of touch and transcendence, as well as for those coming to her words for the first time, Little Alleluias is a revelation.
These works observe, search, pause, astonish, and give thanks to both love and the natural world. In constant conversation with the sublime, (i.e. "Are you afraid? / Somewhere a thousand swans are flying / through winter's worst storm."), Oliver has the rare skill of rendering her poems bring movement to stillness, and people to the Earth, themselves, and each other. Her essays declare her heart and her home, too, alongside thoughts on Wordsworth, Emerson, and Hawthorne—the odes and elegies of Provincetown's resident poet.
On each page, Mary Oliver invites us to walk through her minutes, her moments, and revere the light and dark and rainbowed clothes of world alongside her. With three distinct books collected in one volume for the first time, Little Alleluias asks what passes and what persists, and offers readers the peace that every life deserves.
“Hers is a purposeful language, one that looks not just with attention but with sensual intention, and though awestruck, seeks to hold, even briefly, the unknowns of the energies that make any life. Little alleluias, she called her writings. Not meant to define but to praise, to rejoice in the maker and what has been made, to dare be heard as a whisper or a shout in this immense world.”—Natalie Diaz, in her Foreword
Mary Jane Oliver was an American poet who won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. Her work is inspired by nature, rather than the human world, stemming from her lifelong passion for solitary walks in the wild.
I would say I’m a fan of Mary Oliver’s poetry, although I have not read much of her work. She is very nature orientated, which I can usually connect with. Poetry is hard to rate, hard to judge, usually I just go by if I connected with the poem or not.
With this collection of poetry and essays, prose poems, I found myself not connecting. I’m not sure why either. Nature was there, throughout the book, with the exception of the essays on the Concord writers Hawthorne and Emerson (perhaps my favorite part of this collection).
Not sure what it was about these works, I just kept reading and hoped for one or two that really spoke to me, but honestly none did. Yet, even here I can see she is a good writer.
Thanks Grand Central Publishing and NetGalley for an uncorrected electronic advance review copy of this book.
"Little Alleluias" is a wonderful introduction to the poems and lyrical prose of Mary Oliver. Reading these works is like taking a walk through nature and stopping to appreciate everything around you, from the smallest grain of sand or seed to the vastness of the ocean or the night sky. The writing is absolutely gorgeous and I cannot believe I've lived so many years without Mary Oliver's words in my life. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for introducing me to Oliver's art. Five bright and shiny stars!
There's no one like Mary Oliver to make you pause and wonder, What am I even doing with my life? This compilation of some of her evocative poetry and prose does that masterfully. As I read, I felt convinced that I, too, should be dressing in the dark and going out to wander my stretch of the world until I know it like the back of my hand. The peace and awe she experiences in nature become portals for her to contemplate everything from aging, to faith, to grief over a beloved dog, and beyond. As always, her writing is a balm for the spirit.
I especially enjoyed The Leaf and the Cloud, the long poem that begins Little Alleluias. However, I was also pleasantly surprised by the prose pieces in the later part of the book, including essays on Emerson and Hawthorne. To be honest, Oliver's prose reads a lot like poetry, but that's hardly a complaint. I also liked that the collection mixes in some poems among the essays--particularly the two "Sand Dabs" poems, which are essentially lists of Oliver-style aphorisms.
Little Alleluias is sure to delight longtime Mary Oliver fans and create new ones, too. My thanks to NetGalley and Grand Central Publishing for providing me a copy in exchange for my review.
Nature abounds in this collection of poetry and prose by the late Mary Oliver. I love how nature is her form of worship and how the joy she finds in it leaps off the pages.
I enjoyed her musings about her beloved Cape Cod and its wildlife that is experienced and appreciated in great detail on her daily walks.
I was struck by a passage about the daily discipline of a spiritual practice. Reading the book was worth it if only for this bit of wisdom about routine and the benefits of “divine attentiveness.”
What delighted me were essays about some of the residents of early Concord, MA including Emerson. What a touching tribute to this man of Nature.
Mary says, “I walk in the world to love it.” We her readers are so fortunate to be able to walk along with her.
This was my first real introduction to Mary Oliver, and it left me greatly surprised (almost unmanageably relieved). She is so much more of a poet than I anticipated—her obsession with the symbol (the rose, the swan's tongue, honey, money, the small snake), the delicate, subtle acrobatics of her lines, and the vibrant, resonant timbre of her vocabulary all paint to her to be an exciting—downright jazzy—writer.
But above all, her honestly, her humility, her sincerity: these made her work ring round ripples down through heart's dark waters, sifting up sunken treasures from deep-sea sand. Reading her lucid and delightful essays on Emerson, Hawthorne, etc. at the end of the collection fed an even more nuanced weight to her poetry.
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Above all, take a chance. Sing, like blood going down a vein.
and I remember how everything will be everything else, by and by.
I haven’t read a lot of poetry in my life, but after this collection, one thing feels certain — if you’re sick or feeling blue, poems might be the best — and perhaps the hardest — form of medicine. There’s such deep tenderness and admiration for the world in each piece, that it can feel like both a balm and a chisel to a weary heart.
One thing I didn’t know to expect from Mary’s work is how humor is woven in. So many lines were filled with such playfulness and joy, I was left laughing and smiling.
I said to the grasshopper bounding along the road — how excellent you are at what you do!
All the eighth notes Mozart didn’t have time to use before he entered the cloudburst, he gave to the wren.
Little Alleluias is a transcendent posthumous collection of poetry and prose from the inimitable Mary Oliver, and its euphoric contents reconfirm how she rests within the pantheon of immortal American poets. If Whitman and Dickinson reign atop followed by Frost and Plath, their modern equivalent in carrying forward visionary greatness through the latter half of the 20th century and into early decades of the 21st is Mary Oliver.
Whoever is blessed enough with discovering the splendor of Oliver’s work will experience divine epiphanies where you feel as though you’ve seen the light. She is the quintessential poet whose gift to the world is her ability to magnify the value of life through a connection with nature’s bountiful treasures. She shows us how acts of gratitude to cherish the Earth’s cycles and its every living pulse and creature will result in fulfillment we may not have thought possible.
Oliver makes you feel like you can know whatever God you want to believe in by attuning your focus to the unnamable, inexplicable, and intelligent forces that exist to govern the universe. She makes us realize that if we put forth any effort to engage with the beauty of life and the serenity of the natural environment, we’ll see we’re already in paradise.
If you want to know joy and awe, seek no further than the multitudes that can be found when you connect with the spirit of Mary Oliver. The accessibility of her poetry is so immediate and entrancing that you can hardly believe how easily she transports your thoughts into meditative and prayerful moments where everything of value seems to make sense. I declare Mary Oliver my angel, and she can be yours too.
You can’t conjure up an image of Mary Oliver without thinking of nature, so I knew what was waiting for me before I even opened this book. The poems had an equal mix of animals, the earth, and how we–or Oliver at least–sit around pondering all that surrounds us. I enjoyed how many poems included different birds from herons to hummingbirds, how several poems came back to the snake, and her memorable poem about bats.
I felt like the essays on writers such as Hawthorne and Emerson, for example, could have been left out. They didn’t work well with the rest of her prose, and I felt lost at some of her critiques without knowing some of the pieces she was referring to.
The rest of the book made up for it, though, and I’m thankful to Netgalley for allowing me to read it. I felt both lighter and heavier after reading Little Alleluias, with Mary Oliver knowing just how to tear at your emotions.
"therefore why pray to permanence, why not pray to impermanence, to change, to-- whatever comes next."
mary oliver is a guiding light i'll follow anywhere. i loved this collection because it contained so many poems i'd never read before & lotsss of prose passages that were new.
howeverrrr, i did love the poems much more than the prose. the prose felt disjointed and disconnected from the recurring motifs. i also didn't understand why the poems and prose were arranged in the order they were. nothing felt cohesive and instead was all very scattered. although all beautiful, it seemed as if nothing was arranged with any intention. i guess that's common when an author's writings are published posthumously and without their expert eye.
as always, thanks to the publisher and netgalley for providing me with an advanced reader's copy in exchange for my honest review!
all in all, a great way to round out the mary oliver universe. what a woman! an eternal soul!
If you're a Mary Oliver devotee, you'll want to pick this up. It's a continuation of all you've loved about her previous work. Reflections on life, nature, our place in the world, both in poetry and prose. There's an interlude of some writing she did about Nathanial Hawthorne and Ralph Waldo Emerson that I'm not sure felt like it fit, but if you're just looking to gather up everything Oliver has ever written, you'll likely find value there.
Thank you to NetGalley and the Publisher for providing an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Mary Oliver will forever be one of my all time favorite poets. Her poetry always makes me feel things so profoundly and brings me back to the earth in a grounded way. As a person that loves all things nature, her poignant reflections on the natural world always leave an impact on me. The only reason I give this 4 stars rather than 5 is because some of the longer format prose just didn't work for me - the Hawthorne/Emerson ones in particular felt out of place. That said, I still very much enjoyed this book overall and will forever love Oliver's art.
Little Alleluias: Collected Poetry and Prose by Mary Oliver is less a book than a devotional space—an intimate chapel of language where the sacred and the ordinary kneel side by side. Gathering poems and prose across her career, the collection serves as both introduction and culmination, revealing a writer whose reverence for the natural world becomes a form of prayer. The title is apt: each piece feels like a small hallelujah, quietly but unmistakably offered.
Oliver’s great gift has always been attention. She does not merely observe the world; she enters it with humility. In one of her most beloved lines, she asks, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?” The question has lost none of its urgency through repetition across decades. Within this collection, it resonates not as motivational slogan but as spiritual inquiry. Oliver’s poems do not command transformation; they invite it.
Nature, in her hands, is neither backdrop nor metaphor alone—it is presence. Geese, rivers, black bears, grasshoppers: they appear not as symbols to be decoded but as fellow citizens of existence. In “Wild Geese,” she reassures the reader, “You only have to let the soft animal of your body / love what it loves.” The line exemplifies her steady defiance of shame-based morality. Oliver’s spirituality is incarnational. The body is not an obstacle to transcendence but the means of it.
What makes Little Alleluias especially moving is the interplay between poetry and prose. The essays illuminate her process without demystifying it. Oliver speaks candidly about solitude, about walking for hours through woods and marshland, about the discipline beneath apparent simplicity. “Attention is the beginning of devotion,” she writes—a sentence that might serve as the thesis of her entire body of work. Her prose is as clear as her verse, stripped of ornament yet luminous with conviction.
The simplicity so often attributed to Oliver can be misleading. Her language is accessible, yes, but beneath its clarity lies careful architecture. The rhythms echo liturgy; the imagery accumulates with patient precision. Consider the closing of “The Summer Day,” where the earlier question returns with sharpened focus. The poem has moved through grasshopper and prayer and kneeling in the grass, so that by its end the reader feels not scolded but awakened.
Throughout the collection, Oliver resists despair without denying suffering. Death appears often—of loved ones, of animals, of the self that once was. Yet even grief is held within a larger affirmation. In “When Death Comes,” she writes of wanting to step through the door “curious, like a bridegroom.” The simile is startling: death not as annihilation but as consummation. Such lines reveal the quiet audacity of her faith in continuity.
One of the collection’s greatest strengths is its coherence. Though the pieces span years, they feel unified by a singular moral vision: pay attention, cherish the earth, remain open to wonder. Oliver does not argue for environmental reverence through polemic. Instead, she makes love of the world irresistible. After reading her descriptions of a pond’s “black silk” surface or the “blue iris” rising from mud, one feels that care is the only reasonable response.
If there is a risk in gathering so much of Oliver’s work in one volume, it is that her tonal steadiness may blur into predictability. Yet even here, the accumulation becomes part of the power. The repeated gestures toward gratitude, astonishment, and humility form a kind of chant. Each poem may be a “little alleluia,” but together they swell into a sustained hymn.
Ultimately, Little Alleluias reminds us why Oliver remains one of the most cherished poets of the past century. She offers neither irony nor spectacle. Instead, she offers presence. To read her is to be returned to the physical world with sharpened sight and softened heart. In an age of noise and distraction, her voice remains clear, patient, and gently insistent: pay attention; this is your life; it is enough.
LOVE her A few of my favorite poems were: “One Hundred White-sided dolphins on a Summer Day”, “Now Are the Rough Things Smooth”, and “Snowy Night” Her poems are joyful and at times heart wrenching. Reminders to look around in awe!!! Favorite line from the section of prose at the end: “That’s the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning ‘Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?’”
This book was given to me by NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinions.
I typically don’t rate poetry; regardless, Mary Oliver is the queen. Her appreciation and observation of the world is so refreshing. This book was an interesting mix of poetry and prose— some of the prose I didn’t care much about— like the essays on Hawthorne, but I enjoyed the one on Emerson.
I love Mary Oliver's poems. I found the first section of poems in this book to be beautiful and luminous. The poems in the second section had some moments that knocked me off my feet, but some of the poems didn't feel as strong or cohesive as the ones in the first section. I wasn't as taken by the last section of essays, though those too had some wonderful moments. I'm glad I read this book, and you can't really go wrong with Mary Oliver, but it didn't offer as satisfying a reading experience as some of her single volume books of poems do.
"But tell me, if you would praise the world, what is it you would leave out?"
For Mary Oliver devotees, this poetry collection will find a home on their shelf alongside Devotions. Oliver's reverence for nature, the way she weaves together musings about life, love, and faith, and the sense of wonder that her writing brings to the reader all make her into one of the greats. I am not sure how to really review poetry because it is so deeply personal, but I will say that Oliver's works resonate with me in a way that not many others do.
The only reason I'm putting this at four stars and not five is that there are a number of longer poems in here, and as a matter of personal preference I find that her shorter, more succinct poems have a stronger impact on me.
Thank you to NetGalley and Grand Central Publishing for this ARC to read and review.
“You are standing at the edge of the woods at twilight when something begins to sing, like a waterfall flowing down through the leaves.”
“The rain, and the trees, and all their kindred have brought me a comfort and modesty and a devotion to inclusiveness that I would not give up for all the gold in all of the mountains of the world.”
this was so so beautiful, to nobody’s surprise! i enjoyed the mix of work in this collection, but more so the poetry. she’s just an incredible writer overall who always leaves me with an existential crisis and a sudden desire to notice things.
Only in Mary Oliver’s work could I forgive the steady beat of religion. More than that; I find myself realising that devoutness serves as consequence of nature, and not the other way around, because nature means virtue, means true holiness.
I greatly appreciate collections that draw from previously obscure portions of a canon. This was a delightful meander through Oliver’s writing I’d never encountered before.
I thought I had read just about everything written by Mary Oliver, which of course is impossible. And glad for it, as I keep coming across gems like these:
"Let grief by your sister, she will whether or no."
"A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world and the responsibilities of your life."