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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
Fear
Remembered
Make
Wake
Image
Smile
Sea
Drear
Conflict
Tramples
Less
Beauteous
Hope
Dreary

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The groves were God's first temples.
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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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Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
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The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
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And kind the voice and glad the eyes That welcome my return at night.
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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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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A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
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Ah! never shall the land forget.
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I hear the howl of the wind that brings The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
William C. Bryant
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These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.
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The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
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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.
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Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues That live among the clouds, and flush the air, Lingering, and deepening at the hour of dews.
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Winning isn't everything, but it beats anything in second place.
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Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
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The journalist should be on his guard against publishing what is false in taste or exceptionable in morals.
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.
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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.
William C. Bryant