William Cullen Bryant Quotes

Thou unrelenting Past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, And fetters, sure and fast, Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.

William Cullen Bryant

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.

William Cullen Bryant

And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.

William Cullen Bryant

Weep not that the world changesdid it keep A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.

William Cullen Bryant

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase Are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

William Cullen Bryant

They talk of short-lived pleasuresbe it so pain dies as quickly: stern, hard-featured pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign; And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.

William Cullen Bryant

Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd and under roofs That our frail hands have raised?

William Cullen Bryant

Oh, sun! that o'er the western mountains now Goest down in glory! ever beautiful And blessed is thy radiance, whether thou Colourest the eastern heaven and night-mist cool, Till the bright day-star vanish, or on high Climbest and streamest thy white splendours from mid-sky.

William Cullen Bryant

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race!

William Cullen Bryant

Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen; Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.

William Cullen Bryant

He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.

William Cullen Bryant

Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.

William Cullen Bryant
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