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
birds breeze bright clear cool loved summer
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.
beautiful bright heard mingle scenery seemed sounds thrill worthy
The sounds I had heard seemed worthy to mingle with this bright and perfumed atmosphere, and to thrill the beautiful scenery around me.
brighter fair lately light softer
Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stoodIn brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
brighter fair lately light softer stood
Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
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.
appointed course life mighty rolls struggling tides
These struggling tides of life that seemIn wayward, aimless course to tend,Are eddies of the mighty streamThat rolls to its appointed end.
changing hear march rushing stormy valley
The stormy March has come at last,With wind, and cloud, and changing skies;I hear the rushing of the blast,That through the snowy valley flies.
changing hear march rushing stormy valley
The stormy March has come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast, That through the snowy valley flies.
hinges stand till turn wait
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me.
cold coward fire hearts shake words
The words of fire that from his penWere flung upon the fervid page,Still move, still shake the hearts of men,Amid a cold and coward age.
cold coward fire hearts pen shake words
The words of fire that from his pen Were flung upon the fervid page, Still move, still shake the hearts of men, Amid a cold and coward age.
boundless earth fresh gardens man sinned
These are the Gardens of the Desert, theseThe unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful,And fresh as the young earth, ere man had sinned --
fire frightful left scar wrath
And wrath has left its scar -- that fire of hellHas left its frightful scar upon my soul.
blast hand mouth shall standard sword thy triumph
Another hand thy sword shall wield,Another hand the standard wave,Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealedThe blast of triumph o'er thy grave.