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All great poets have been men of great knowledge.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
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Knowledge
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Poets

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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Stand here by my side and turn, I pray, On the lake below thy gentle eyes The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, And dark and silent the water lies And out of that frozen mist the snow In wavering flakes begins to flow Flake after flake, They sink in the dark and silent lake.
William C. Bryant
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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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Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
William C. Bryant
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Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
William C. Bryant
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Genius, with all its pride in its own strength, is but a dependent quality, and cannot put forth its whole powers nor claim all its honors without an amount of aid from the talents and labors of others which it is difficult to calculate.
William C. Bryant
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The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by. As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.
William C. Bryant
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Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
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.
William C. Bryant
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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
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Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
William C. Bryant
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And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
William C. Bryant
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It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.
William C. Bryant
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Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
William C. Bryant
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Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month! in praise of thee Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.
William C. Bryant
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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.
William C. Bryant
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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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Follow thou thy choice.
William C. Bryant
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Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
William C. Bryant
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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.
William C. Bryant
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
William C. Bryant