William C. Bryant
William C. Bryant
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth3 November 1794
CountryUnited States of America
grief dark night
There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night; And grief may hide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.
stars dark night
The sad and solemn night hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires; The glorious host of light walk the dark hemisphere till she retires; All through her silent watches, gliding slow, Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.
summer night june
Heed not the night; A summer lodge amid the wild is mine, 'Tis shadowed by the tulip-tree, 'Tis mantled by the vine.
eye night voice
And kind the voice and glad the eyes That welcome my return at night.
distance night wind
A melancholy sound is in the air, A deep sigh in the distance, a shrill wail Around my dwelling. 'Tis the Wind of night.
summer moon night
The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.
lying dark air
Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste Stream down the snows, till the air is white, As, myriads by myriads madly chased, They fling themselves from their shadowy height. The fair, frail creatures of middle sky, What speed they make, with their grave so nigh; Flake after flake, To lie in the dark and silent lake!
beautiful art perfect
The birch-bark canoe of the savage seems to me one of the most beautiful and perfect things of the kind constructed by human art.
american-poet changeless indeed weep
Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.
beyond hour lives lovely pass prized
Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
fruits increase remorse
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.
dog sleep doors
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.
fall political liberty
The right to discuss freely and openly, by speech, by the pen, by the press, all political questions, and to examine the animadvert upon all political institutions is a right so clear and certain, so interwoven with our other liberties, so necessary, in fact, to their existence, that without it we must fall into despotism and anarchy.
heart men maidens
Maidens hearts are always soft:Would that men's were truer!