William Cullen Bryant Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
William Cullen Bryant
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A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
William Cullen Bryant
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The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by. As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.
William Cullen Bryant
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The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows.
William Cullen Bryant
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Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues
That live among the clouds, and flush the air,
Lingering, and deepening at the hour of dews.
William Cullen Bryant
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The groves were God's first temples.
William Cullen Bryant
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The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
William Cullen Bryant
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On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered;
Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee,
Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them
Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.
William Cullen Bryant
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Poetry is the eloquence of verse.
William Cullen Bryant
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Father, thy hand
Hath reared these venerable columns, thou
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun,
Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze,
And shot towards heaven.
William Cullen Bryant
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Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,- The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers.
William Cullen Bryant
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Oh, Constellations of the early night
That sparkled brighter as the twilight died,
And made the darkness glorious! I have seen
Your rays grow dim upon the horizon's edge
And sink behind the mountains. I have seen
The great Orion, with his jewelled belt,
That large-limbed warrior of the skies, go down
Into the gloom. Beside him sank a crowd
Of shining ones.
William Cullen Bryant
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A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William Cullen Bryant
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Tender pauses speak
The overflow of gladness,
When words are all too weak.
William Cullen Bryant
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Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.
William Cullen Bryant
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God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.
William Cullen Bryant
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Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd and under roofs That our frail hands have raised?
William Cullen Bryant
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Or, bide thou where the poppy blows
With windflowers fail and fair.
William Cullen Bryant
