The Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant |
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Page xix
... life appears That won my heart in my greener years . " " A Winter Piece " is a gallery of woodland pictures which surpasses anything of the kind in the language . " A Walk at 99 Sunset is notable in that it is the first MEMOIR . xix.
... life appears That won my heart in my greener years . " " A Winter Piece " is a gallery of woodland pictures which surpasses anything of the kind in the language . " A Walk at 99 Sunset is notable in that it is the first MEMOIR . xix.
Page xl
... heart . 1812 . Of this period Parke Godwin says in his Life of Bryant : " Carefully preserved among his papers - and he was for the most part inattentive in keeping what concerned himself only -are several fragments of poems expressive ...
... heart . 1812 . Of this period Parke Godwin says in his Life of Bryant : " Carefully preserved among his papers - and he was for the most part inattentive in keeping what concerned himself only -are several fragments of poems expressive ...
Page 7
... Heart , oh God , Thou wilt not Despise " 352 " How Amiable are thy Tabernacles 99 352 " The Lord giveth Wisdom " 353 " Thy Word is Truth " 353 " Thou , God , seest Me " " I will send them Prophets and Apostles ' " Except the Lord build ...
... Heart , oh God , Thou wilt not Despise " 352 " How Amiable are thy Tabernacles 99 352 " The Lord giveth Wisdom " 353 " Thy Word is Truth " 353 " Thou , God , seest Me " " I will send them Prophets and Apostles ' " Except the Lord build ...
Page 11
... hearts , the days gone by , When lived the honored sage whose death we wept , And the soft virtues beamed from many an eye , And beat in many a heart that long has slept- Like spots of earth where angel - feet have stepped , Are holy ...
... hearts , the days gone by , When lived the honored sage whose death we wept , And the soft virtues beamed from many an eye , And beat in many a heart that long has slept- Like spots of earth where angel - feet have stepped , Are holy ...
Page 14
... heart to mercy , pleading long , And sought out gentle deeds to gladden life ; The weak , against the sons of spoil and wrong , Banded , and watched their hamlets , and grew strong ; States rose , and , in the shadow of their might ...
... heart to mercy , pleading long , And sought out gentle deeds to gladden life ; The weak , against the sons of spoil and wrong , Banded , and watched their hamlets , and grew strong ; States rose , and , in the shadow of their might ...
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amid autumn beauty behold beneath bird bloom blossoms blue boughs breath bright brook brow Bryant's contributions calm clouds Cummington dark death deep dost dream dwell earth edition eyes fair flowers forest G. P. Putnam's Sons gathered gaze gentle glorious glory Godwin's Graham's Magazine grave green hand hast hear heart heaven hills hour Hymn land leaves light Literary Gazette look maiden mighty morning mountain murmur night North American Review o'er Parke Godwin passed pleasant poems poet published R. H. Dana River rock round Samuel Osgood shade shalt shining shore sight silent sleep smile snow soft Song sound spring stars stream summer sweet tears Thanatopsis thee thine thou art trees United States Literary vale Verplanck voice walk wandering waters William Cullen Bryant William Leggett wind woods written in Roslyn York Ledger York Mirror York Review youth
Popular passages
Page 20 - The hills Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks 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.
Page 26 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Page lxxx - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.
Page 92 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves ; the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie ; but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy Dearth the lovely ones again.
Page lxxxi - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 81 - Written on thy works I read The lesson of thy own eternity. Lo! all grow old and die; but see again, How on the faltering footsteps of decay Youth presses, — ever gay and beautiful youth In all its beautiful forms.
Page xxxiii - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 81 - God ! when thou Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, With all the waters of the firmament, The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods And drowns the villages ; when, at thy call, Uprises the great deep and throws himself Upon the continent, and overwhelms Its...
Page lxxxi - So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page lxxx - Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.