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
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 --
earth heal hope life meet memory mind pleasant praise sleep tortured
The praise of those who sleep in earth,The pleasant memory of their worth,The hope to meet when life is past,Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
earth heal hope life meet memory mind pleasant praise shall sleep tortured
The praise of those who sleep in earth, The pleasant memory of their worth, The hope to meet when life is past, Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
earth lovely pass
Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away
among crushed dies earth eternal god rise shall
Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again;Th' eternal years of God are hers;But Error, wounded, writhes in pain,And dies among his worshippers.
behind earth echoes glorious left loss shore tears whose
The earth may ring, from shore to shore,With echoes of a glorious name,But he, whose loss our tears deplore,Has left behind him more than fame.
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.
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.