Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
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
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William C. Bryant
Voice
Streams
Else
River
Stills
Hills
Weedy
Still
Solitude
Tiber
Thou
Sounded
Rivers
Stream
Ancient
Rome
Century
Centuries
More quotes by William C. Bryant
Is not thy home among the flowers?
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
Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
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
Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight.
William C. Bryant
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
And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in.
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
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
William C. Bryant
Remorse is virtue's root its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William C. Bryant
The mighty Rain Holds the vast empire of the sky alone.
William C. Bryant
That make the meadows green and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,-- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
William C. Bryant
A melancholy sound is in the air, A deep sigh in the distance, a shrill wail Around my dwelling. 'Tis the Wind of night.
William C. Bryant
Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers fail and fair.
William C. Bryant
Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!
William C. Bryant
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.
William C. Bryant
The victory of endurance born.
William C. Bryant
Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
William C. Bryant
Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And shot towards heaven.
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