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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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William C. Bryant
February
Sunshine
Leaves
Within
Tints
Swells
Boughs
Buds
Bud

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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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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The right to discuss freely and openly, by speech, by the pen, by the press, all political questions, and to examine the animadvert upon all political institutions is a right so clear and certain, so interwoven with our other liberties, so necessary, in fact, to their existence, that without it we must fall into despotism and anarchy.
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Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines! In the soft light of these serenest skies From the broad highland region, black with pines, Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise, Bathed in the tint Peruvian slaves behold In rosy flushes on the virgin gold.
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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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The mighty Rain Holds the vast empire of the sky alone.
William C. Bryant
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War, like all other situations of danger and of change, calls forth the exertion of admirable intellectual qualities and great virtues, and it is only by dwelling on these, and keeping out of sight the sufferings and sorrows, and all the crimes and evils that follow in its train, that it has its glory in the eyes of men.
William C. Bryant
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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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And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.
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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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Ah! never shall the land forget.
William C. Bryant
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Oh, river! darkling river! what a voice Is that thou utterest while all else is still-- The ancient voice that, centuries ago, Sounded between thy hills, while Rome was yet A weedy solitude by Tiber's stream!
William C. Bryant
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Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
William C. Bryant
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There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way.
William C. Bryant
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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
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There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night And grief may hide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.
William C. Bryant
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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
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
William C. Bryant
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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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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
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Winning isn't everything, but it beats anything in second place.
William C. Bryant