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William Cullen Bryant Quotes

«That delicate forest flower,With scented breath and look so like a smile,Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould,An emanation of the indwelling Life,A visible token of the upholding Love,That are the soul of this great universe.»
«So live that when thy summons comes to joinThe innumerable caravan that movesTo that mysterious realm, where each shall takeHis chamber in the silent halls of death,Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothedBy an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,Like one who wraps the drapery of his couchAbout him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.»
«So they, who climb to wealth, forgetThe friends in darker fortunes tried.I copied them -- but I regretThat I should ape the ways of pride.»
«The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows. . . .»
«But I behold a fearful sign,To which the white men's eyes are blind;Their race may vanish hence, like mine,And leave no trace behind,Save ruins o'er the region spread,And the white stones above the dead.»
«Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stoodIn brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?»
«We plant, upon the sunny lea,A shadow for the noontide hour,A shelter from the summer shower,When we plant the apple-tree.»
«The hills,Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, -- the valesStretching in pensive quietness between;The venerable woods -- rivers that moveIn majesty, and the complaining brooksThat make the meadows green; and, poured round all,Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, --Are but the solemn decorations allOf the great tomb of man.»
«And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come,To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.»
«Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,When our mother Nature laughs around;When even the deep blue heavens look glad,And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?»

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