Quote

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

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

William C. Bryant
Bird
Breast
Summer
Breeze
Loved
Breasts
Clear
Birds
Darting
Fresh
Sweeps
Bright
Morn
Sky
July
Cool
June

More quotes by William C. Bryant

Image
Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William C. Bryant
Image
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
Image
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
William C. Bryant
Image
The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
William C. Bryant
Image
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
Image
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
Image
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.
William C. Bryant
Image
Showers and sunshine bring, Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth To put their foliage out, the woods are slack, And one by one the singing-birds come back.
William C. Bryant
Image
There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way.
William C. Bryant
Image
Alas! to seize the moment When the heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man come not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage, They cannot seek his hand.
William C. Bryant
Image
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.
William C. Bryant
Image
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
Image
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
Image
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant
Image
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
Image
Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
William C. Bryant
Image
The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
William C. Bryant
Image
And kind the voice and glad the eyes That welcome my return at night.
William C. Bryant
Image
The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
William C. Bryant
Image
Ah! never shall the land forget.
William C. Bryant