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Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
William C. Bryant
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William C. Bryant
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More quotes by William C. Bryant
Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues That live among the clouds, and flush the air, Lingering, and deepening at the hour of dews.
William C. Bryant
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
William C. Bryant
I gazed upon the glorious sky And the green mountains round, And thought that when I came to lie At rest within the ground, 'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June When brooks send up a cheerful tune, And groves a joyous sound, The sexton's hand, my grave to make, The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
William C. Bryant
Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
William C. Bryant
Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
William C. Bryant
Poetry is the eloquence of verse.
William C. Bryant
Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
William C. Bryant
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
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste.
William C. Bryant
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in.
William C. Bryant
Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke.
William C. Bryant
It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.
William C. Bryant
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
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
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.
William C. Bryant
All great poets have been men of great knowledge.
William C. Bryant
The breath of springtime at this twilight hour Comes through the gathering glooms, And bears the stolen sweets of many a flower Into my silent rooms.
William C. Bryant
Ah! never shall the land forget.
William C. Bryant
That make the meadows green and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,-- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
William C. Bryant