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Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Pain
Lets
Agony
Reign
Prisoner
Weary
Fiercest
Fierce
Agonies
Quickly
Shortest
Dies
Prisoners

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And shot towards heaven.
William C. Bryant
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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!
William C. Bryant
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Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.
William C. Bryant
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And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
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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Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke.
William C. Bryant
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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
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Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd and under roofs That our frail hands have raised?
William C. Bryant
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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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God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.
William C. Bryant
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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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[Thanatopsis] was written in 1817, when Bryant was 23. Had he died then, the world would have thought it had lost a great poet. But he lived on.
William C. Bryant
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The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee.
William C. Bryant
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Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
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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Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
William C. Bryant
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It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.
William C. Bryant
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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.
William C. Bryant
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The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
William C. Bryant