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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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William C. Bryant
Make
Wake
Image
Smile
Sea
Drear
Conflict
Tramples
Less
Beauteous
Hope
Dreary
Fear
Remembered

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And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.
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He [William Henry Harrison] did not live long enough to prove his incapacity for the office of President.
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The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
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Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
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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.
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The victory of endurance born.
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in.
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
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Thou who wouldst see the lovely and the wild Mingled in harmony on Nature's face, Ascend our rocky mountains. Let thy foot Fail not with weariness, for on their tops The beauty and the majesty of earth, Spread wide beneath, shall make thee to forget The steep and toilsome way.
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Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
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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.
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Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers fail and fair.
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Do not the bright June roses blow To meet thy kiss at morning hours?
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It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.
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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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Come when the rains Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice, While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach! The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps And the broad arching portals of the grove Welcome thy entering.
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On rolls the stream with a perpetual sigh The rocks moan wildly as it passes by Hyssop and wormwood border all the strand, And not a flower adorns the dreary land.
William C. Bryant
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A herd of prairie-wolves will enter a field of melons and quarrel about the division of the spoils as fiercely and noisily as so many politicians.
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On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.
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