William Cullen Bryant Quote

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


November. A Sonnet (1824)


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

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

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

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