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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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William C. Bryant
Glory
April
Joy
Fragrance
Stars
Breeze
Upon
Wander
Eye
Till
Star
Breezes
Loving
Breathed
Looked
Blossom

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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
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I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
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Thou who wouldst see the lovely and the wild Mingled in harmony on Nature's face, Ascend our rocky mountains. Let thy foot Fail not with weariness, for on their tops The beauty and the majesty of earth, Spread wide beneath, shall make thee to forget The steep and toilsome way.
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Stand here by my side and turn, I pray, On the lake below thy gentle eyes The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, And dark and silent the water lies And out of that frozen mist the snow In wavering flakes begins to flow Flake after flake, They sink in the dark and silent lake.
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The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
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Features, the great soul's apparent seat.
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The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee.
William C. Bryant
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Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!
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The linden, in the fervors of July, Hums with a louder concert. When the wind Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime, As when some master-hand exulting sweeps The keys of some great organ, ye give forth The music of the woodland depths, a hymn Of gladness and of thanks.
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The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot upon its grassy mold The pur0ple oak-leaf falls the birchen bough drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.
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The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
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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!
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Genius, with all its pride in its own strength, is but a dependent quality, and cannot put forth its whole powers nor claim all its honors without an amount of aid from the talents and labors of others which it is difficult to calculate.
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The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
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Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her brave -
William C. Bryant
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The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
William C. Bryant
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The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above.
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Self-interest is the most ingenious and persuasive of all the agents that deceive our consciences, while by means of it our unhappy and stubborn prejudices operate in their greatest force.
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Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster children into strength and athletic proportion.
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