William Cullen Bryant Quotes

And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief;
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Death of the Flowers (l. 28). . . Oxford Book of Children's Verse in America, The. Donald Hall, ed. (1985) Oxford University Press.
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So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Death of the Flowers (l. 30). . . Oxford Book of Children's Verse in America, The. Donald Hall, ed. (1985) Oxford University Press.
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These are the Gardens of the Desert, these The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, And fresh as the young earth, ere man had sinned—
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Prairies (l. 1-3). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
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Thus change the forms of being. Thus arise Races of living things, glorious in strength, And perish, as the quickening breath of God Fills them, or is withdrawn.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Prairies (l. 86-89). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
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All at once A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream, And I am in the wilderness alone.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Prairies (l. 122-124). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
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Man hath no part in all this glorious work: The hand that built the firmament hath heaved And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes With herbage,
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Prairies (l. 24-27). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
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Thy early smile has stayed my walk; But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, I passed thee on thy humble stalk.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Yellow Violet (l. 22-24). . . Norton Anthology of American Literature, The, Vols. I-II. Nina Baym and others, eds. (2d ed., 1985) W. W. Norton & Company.
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So they, who climb to wealth, forget The friends in darker fortunes tried. I copied them—but I regret That I should ape the ways of pride.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Yellow Violet (l. 25-28). . . Norton Anthology of American Literature, The, Vols. I-II. Nina Baym and others, eds. (2d ed., 1985) W. W. Norton & Company.
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When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird's warble know, The yellow violet's modest bell Peeps from the last year's leaves below.
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878), U.S. poet. The Yellow Violet (l. 1-4). . . Norton Anthology of American Literature, The, Vols. I-II. Nina Baym and others, eds. (2d ed., 1985) W. W. Norton & Company.
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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 (1794-1878), U.S. poet. To a Waterfowl (l. 29-32). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
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