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 --
curb forward free last limit mankind shall spirit
Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,Throws its last fetters off; and who shall placeA limit to the giant's unchained strength,Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?
built firmament glorious hand hath man smoothed sown
Man hath no part in all this glorious work:The hand that built the firmament hath heavedAnd smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopesWith herbage. . . .
built firmament glorious hand hath man smoothed sown
Man hath no part in all this glorious work: The hand that built the firmament hath heaved And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes With herbage. . . .
gathering giant hear man
Chained in the market-place he stood,A man of giant frame,Amid the gathering multitudeThat shrunk to hear his name.
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.
blast hand mouth shall standard sword thy till triumph
Another hand thy sword shall wield, Another hand the standard wave, Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.