To the Fringed Gentian (William Cullen Bryant Poem)
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds ...
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds ...
Oh! could I hope the wise and pure in heart Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem My ...
Matron! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth have passed, And now the mould is heaped ...
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