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

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
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More quotes by William C. Bryant

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I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
William C. Bryant
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To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
William C. Bryant
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Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William C. Bryant
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And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.
William C. Bryant
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On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.
William C. Bryant
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The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
William C. Bryant
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Ah, never shall the land forget How gush'd the life-blood of the brave, Gush'd warm with hope and courage yet, Upon the soil they fought to save!
William C. Bryant
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Ere, in the northern gale, The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, Have put their glory on.
William C. Bryant
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The sad and solemn night hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires The glorious host of light walk the dark hemisphere till she retires All through her silent watches, gliding slow, Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.
William C. Bryant
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Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
William C. Bryant
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Come when the rains Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice, While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach! The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps And the broad arching portals of the grove Welcome thy entering.
William C. Bryant
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Christ taught an astonishing thing about physical death: not merely that it is an experience robbed of its terror but that as an experience it does not exist at all. To sleep in Christ, like one that wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
William C. Bryant
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A herd of prairie-wolves will enter a field of melons and quarrel about the division of the spoils as fiercely and noisily as so many politicians.
William C. Bryant
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All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.
William C. Bryant
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When April winds Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up, Opened in airs of June her multitude Of golden chalices to humming-birds And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.
William C. Bryant
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The birch-bark canoe of the savage seems to me one of the most beautiful and perfect things of the kind constructed by human art.
William C. Bryant
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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
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Still sweet with blossoms is the year's fresh prime.
William C. Bryant
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It is a sultry day the sun has drunk The dew that lay upon the morning grass There is no rustling in the lofty elm That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint And interrupted murmur of the bee, Settling on the sick flowers, And then again Instantly on the wing.
William C. Bryant
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God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.
William C. Bryant