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A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile, Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade. Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws, No more sits listening by his den, but steals Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field, And crops its juicy-blossoms.
William Cullen Bryant
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All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.
William Cullen Bryant
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These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.
William Cullen Bryant
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So they, who climb to wealth, forget The friends in darker fortunes tried. I copied them--but I regret That I should ape the ways of pride.
William Cullen Bryant
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Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William Cullen Bryant
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I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
William Cullen Bryant
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Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William Cullen Bryant
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Gently - so have good men taught - Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new; the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
William Cullen Bryant
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I shall seeThe hour of death draw near to me,Hope, blossoming within my heart. . . .
William Cullen Bryant
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Is not thy home among the flowers?
William Cullen Bryant
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
William Cullen Bryant
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The victory of endurance born.
William Cullen Bryant
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Genius, with all its pride in its own strength, is but a dependent quality, and cannot put forth its whole powers nor claim all its honors without an amount of aid from the talents and labors of others which it is difficult to calculate.
William Cullen Bryant
