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Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Crushed
Rise
Truth
Earth

More quotes by William C. Bryant

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Ah! never shall the land forget.
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Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers fail and fair.
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It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.
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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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Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
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Eloquence is the poetry of prose.
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The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows.
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.
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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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And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
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Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her brave -
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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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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 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.
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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.
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A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant
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Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
William C. Bryant
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Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant
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And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
William C. Bryant