William Cullen Bryant
William Cullen Bryant
William Cullen Bryantwas an American romantic poet, journalist, and long-time editor of the New York Evening Post...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth3 November 1794
CountryUnited States of America
above behold eyes fearful leave race region ruins save stones trace vanish white
But I behold a fearful sign, To which the white men's eyes are blind; Their race may vanish hence, like mine, And leave no trace behind, Save ruins o'er the region spread, And the white stones above the dead.
bright fast figures flitting left secret somewhere tears
How fast the flitting figures come!The mild, the fierce, the stony face;Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and someWhere secret tears have left their trace.
among dust poetry shall sphere spirits thee time
How shall I know thee in the sphere which keepsThe disembodied spirits of the dead,When all of thee that time could wither sleepsAnd perishes among the dust we tread?
children summer
Summer wanes; the children are grown;Fun and frolic no more he knows. . . .
april driven fast fill sea setting shall shrink snow till towards warm waste western
They waste us-ay-like April snow In the warm noon, we shrink away; And fast they follow, as we go Towards the setting day- Till they shall fill the land, and we Are driven into the Western sea
elder grace hate haughty lovely mighty mother oh thy youthful
Oh mother of a mighty race,Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!The elder dames, thy haughty peers,Admire and hate thy blooming years.
blossoming blue cloudy deep heavens laughs mother nature time
Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,When our mother Nature laughs around;When even the deep blue heavens look glad,And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?
blossoming blue cloudy deep heavens laughs mother nature time
Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?
beautiful visions youth
The visions of my youth are pastToo bright, too beautiful to last.
call horrid men perjury tale
The horrid tale of perjury and strife,Murder and spoil, which men call history.
ancient gray great meadows melancholy poured quietness rivers round solemn tomb woods
The hills,Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, -- the valesStretching in pensive quietness between;The venerable woods -- rivers that moveIn majesty, and the complaining brooksThat make the meadows green; and, poured round all,Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, --Are but the solemn decorations allOf the great tomb of man.
ancient brooks gray great meadows melancholy move poured quietness rivers round solemn stretching tomb woods
The hills, Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, -- the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods -- rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, -- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
brave courage fought hope land shall soil warm
Ah! never shall the land forgetHow gushed the life-blood of her brave --Gushed, warm with hope and courage yet,Upon the soil they fought to save.
brave courage forget fought hope land shall soil warm
Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her brave -- Gushed, warm with hope and courage yet, Upon the soil they fought to save.