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Still sweet with blossoms is the year's fresh prime.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
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More quotes by William C. Bryant

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Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!
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Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste.
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Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!
William C. Bryant
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[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
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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
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Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
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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Difficulty is the nurse of greatness.
William C. Bryant
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Remorse is virtue's root its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William C. Bryant
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The linden, in the fervors of July, Hums with a louder concert. When the wind Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime, As when some master-hand exulting sweeps The keys of some great organ, ye give forth The music of the woodland depths, a hymn Of gladness and of thanks.
William C. Bryant
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The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds.
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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The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
William C. Bryant
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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
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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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The victory of endurance born.
William C. Bryant
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Christ taught an astonishing thing about physical death: not merely that it is an experience robbed of its terror but that as an experience it does not exist at all. To sleep in Christ, like one that wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
William C. Bryant
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On rolls the stream with a perpetual sigh The rocks moan wildly as it passes by Hyssop and wormwood border all the strand, And not a flower adorns the dreary land.
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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He [William Henry Harrison] did not live long enough to prove his incapacity for the office of President.
William C. Bryant