William Cullen Bryant Short Quotes

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The hills,
Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.

William Cullen Bryant
And at my silent window-sill The jassamine peeps in.

William Cullen Bryant
Maidens hearts are always soft:
Would that men's were truer!

William Cullen Bryant
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.

William Cullen Bryant
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.

William Cullen Bryant
I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.

William Cullen Bryant
Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth
In her fair pages.

William Cullen Bryant
I know where the young May violet grows, In its lone and lowly nook.

William Cullen Bryant
Of Sanguinaria, from whose brittle stem The red drops fell like blood.

William Cullen Bryant
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.

William Cullen Bryant
Do not the bright June roses blow
To meet thy kiss at morning hours?

William Cullen Bryant
And kind the voice and glad the eyes
That welcome my return at night.

William Cullen Bryant
Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her brave -

William Cullen Bryant
Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.

William Cullen Bryant
Tender pauses speak
The overflow of gladness,
When words are all too weak.

William Cullen Bryant
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue....

William Cullen Bryant
I hear the howl of the wind that brings
The long drear storm on its heavy wings.

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

William Cullen Bryant
All that tread,
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.

William Cullen Bryant
Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke.

William Cullen Bryant
The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye
Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.

William Cullen Bryant
The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

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

William Cullen Bryant
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief,
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.

William Cullen Bryant
Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven
They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.

William Cullen Bryant