All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
More Quotes from William C. Bryant:
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.William C. Bryant
Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.
William C. Bryant
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
William C. Bryant
Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.
William C. Bryant
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?
William C. Bryant
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
William C. Bryant
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