Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
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
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William C. Bryant
Children
Echoes
Grove
Gathering
Glee
Tall
Drops
Tawny
Fill
Grapes
Walnut
Fruit
Shouting
Walnuts
Heavy
November
Groves
Tree
Ripe
Chestnuts
Black
Beside
Linger
More quotes by William C. Bryant
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
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
The journalist should be on his guard against publishing what is false in taste or exceptionable in morals.
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
I hear the howl of the wind that brings The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
William C. Bryant
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.
William C. Bryant
Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
William C. Bryant
All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.
William C. Bryant
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
The fiercest agonies have shortest reign And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.
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
Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
William C. Bryant
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
William C. Bryant
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
And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
William C. Bryant
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant
There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.
William C. Bryant
The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds.
William C. Bryant
[Thanatopsis] was written in 1817, when Bryant was 23. Had he died then, the world would have thought it had lost a great poet. But he lived on.
William C. Bryant
It is a sultry day the sun has drunk The dew that lay upon the morning grass There is no rustling in the lofty elm That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint And interrupted murmur of the bee, Settling on the sick flowers, And then again Instantly on the wing.
William C. Bryant