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The mighty Rain Holds the vast empire of the sky alone.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Alone
Empire
Mighty
Empires
Holds
Vast
Sky
Rain

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Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
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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.
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The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
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To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
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Heed not the night A summer lodge amid the wild is mine, 'Tis shadowed by the tulip-tree, 'Tis mantled by the vine.
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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.
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The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
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He [William Henry Harrison] did not live long enough to prove his incapacity for the office of President.
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Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
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A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
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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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Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
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Alas! to seize the moment When the heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man come not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage, They cannot seek his hand.
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Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?
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The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
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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?
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There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way.
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