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A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
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William C. Bryant
Sculptor
Sculptors
Marble
Sculpture
Grows
Wields
Beauty
Chisel
Chisels
Stricken
More quotes by William C. Bryant
I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
William C. Bryant
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
I hear the howl of the wind that brings The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
William C. Bryant
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
William C. Bryant
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
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.
William C. Bryant
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
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
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
William C. Bryant
He [William Henry Harrison] did not live long enough to prove his incapacity for the office of President.
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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
Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
William C. Bryant
Poetry is the eloquence of verse.
William C. Bryant
Self-interest is the most ingenious and persuasive of all the agents that deceive our consciences, while by means of it our unhappy and stubborn prejudices operate in their greatest force.
William C. Bryant
There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way.
William C. Bryant
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
William C. Bryant
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,- The eternal years of God are hers But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers.
William C. Bryant
Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William C. Bryant
The fiercest agonies have shortest reign And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.
William C. Bryant