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Home
Authors
William C. Bryant
American
Poet
About the author
The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#February
Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Art
#Thought
#Imagination
#Poetry
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 tonight.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Light
#Moon
#Summer
#Sky
The little windflower, whose just opened eye is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Eye
#Heaven
#Spring
The groves were God's first temples.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#God
#First
There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Eye
#Glory
#Joy
#April
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Remorse
#Virtue
#Innocence
Winning isn't everything, but it beats anything in second place.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Winning
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Pain
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 C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Earth
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Open
#Nature
#Sky
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 C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Eyes
#Heaven
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Love
#Language
#Nature
Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Truth
#Error
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster - children into strength and athletic proportion.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Children
#Strength
#Difficulty
#Greatness
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Beauty
A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#State
#Cause
All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Death
#Smiles
Eloquence is the poetry of prose.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#Prose
#Poetry
#Eloquence
Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.
William C. Bryant,
American
Poet
#World
#State
#Cause