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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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William C. Bryant
Virtue
Fruits
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Innocence
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Fair
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Roots
Blessedness
Increase
Remorse

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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The victory of endurance born.
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I hear the howl of the wind that brings The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
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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.
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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.
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Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month! in praise of thee Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.
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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.
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The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds.
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Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully.
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And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
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I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
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Lay down the axe fling by the spade Leave in its track the toiling plough The rifle and the bayonet-blade For arms like yours were fitter now And let the hands that ply the pen Quit the light task, and learn to wield The horseman's crooked brand, and rein The charger on the battle-field.
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Sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
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.
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Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke.
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All great poets have been men of great knowledge.
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There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way.
William C. Bryant
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The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows.
William C. Bryant
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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson.
William C. Bryant