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The fiercest agonies have shortest reign And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Dreams
Fiercest
Morning
Agonies
Peace
Shortest
Comes
Agony
Dream
Reign
Rays
Welcome
Horror

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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The breath of springtime at this twilight hour Comes through the gathering glooms, And bears the stolen sweets of many a flower Into my silent rooms.
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Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
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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
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Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
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Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
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Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke.
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A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
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All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.
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The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot upon its grassy mold The pur0ple oak-leaf falls the birchen bough drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.
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Ere, in the northern gale, The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, Have put their glory on.
William C. Bryant
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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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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
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Tender pauses speak The overflow of gladness, When words are all too weak.
William C. Bryant
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Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster children into strength and athletic proportion.
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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.
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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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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Lay down the axe fling by the spade Leave in its track the toiling plough The rifle and the bayonet-blade For arms like yours were fitter now And let the hands that ply the pen Quit the light task, and learn to wield The horseman's crooked brand, and rein The charger on the battle-field.
William C. Bryant
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God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.
William C. Bryant