William Cullen Bryant Quotes (61 Quotes)

They waste us-ay-like April snow In the warm noon, we shrink away And fast they follow, as we go Towards the setting day- Till they shall fill the land, and we Are driven into the Western sea

Pure was thy life its bloody closeHath placed thee with the sons of light,Among the noble host of thoseWho perished in the cause of Right.

But 'neath yon crimson tree Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame, Nor mark, within its roseate canopy, Her blush of maiden shame.

Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, The foul and hissing bolt of scorn For with thy side shall dwell, at last, The victory of endurance born

Tender pauses speakThe overflow of gladness,When words are all too weak.

Deep in the brightness of the skiesThe thronging years in glory rise.And, as they fleet,Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

Oh mother of a mighty race,Yet lovely in thy youthful graceThe elder dames, thy haughty peers,Admire and hate thy blooming years.

Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste.

We plant, upon the sunny lea,A shadow for the noontide hour,A shelter from the summer shower,When we plant the apple-tree.

Thou dost knowThe faults to which the young are ever proneThe will is quick to act, the judgment weak.

To me it seems that one of the most important requisites for a great poet is a luminous style. The elements of poetry lie in natural objects, in the vicissitudes of human life, in the emotions of the human heart, and the relations of man to man.