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And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Sympathy
Lovely
Grief
Life
Wept
Bereavement
Mourning
Brief

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.
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Hark to that shrill, sudden shout, The cry of an applauding multitude, Swayed by some loud-voiced orator who wields The living mass as if he were its soul!
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Yet will that beauteous image make The dreary sea less drear And thy remembered smile will wake The hope that tramples fear
William C. Bryant
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Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.
William C. Bryant
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These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.
William C. Bryant
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Gently - so have good men taught - Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
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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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
William C. Bryant
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Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
William C. Bryant
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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.
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.
William C. Bryant
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The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by. As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.
William C. Bryant
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The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.
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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The fiercest agonies have shortest reign And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.
William C. Bryant
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Tender pauses speak The overflow of gladness, When words are all too weak.
William C. Bryant
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I shall seeThe hour of death draw near to me,Hope, blossoming within my heart. . . .
William C. Bryant
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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.
William C. Bryant
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Remorse is virtue's root its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William C. Bryant
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All great poets have been men of great knowledge.
William C. Bryant