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Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
William C. Bryant
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William C. Bryant
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More quotes by William C. Bryant
Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste Stream down the snows, till the air is white, As, myriads by myriads madly chased, They fling themselves from their shadowy height. The fair, frail creatures of middle sky, What speed they make, with their grave so nigh Flake after flake, To lie in the dark and silent lake!
William C. Bryant
The victory of endurance born.
William C. Bryant
Ah! never shall the land forget.
William C. Bryant
Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
William C. Bryant
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
Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers fail and fair.
William C. Bryant
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.
William C. Bryant
The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
William C. Bryant
The groves were God's first temples.
William C. Bryant
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
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.
William C. Bryant
Beautiful isles! beneath the sunset skies tall, silver-shafted palm-trees rise, between full orange-trees that shade the living colonade.
William C. Bryant
All great poets have been men of great knowledge.
William C. Bryant
Gently - so have good men taught - Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
William C. Bryant
Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.
William C. Bryant
The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
William C. Bryant
Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William C. Bryant
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.
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
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
William C. Bryant