Another hand thy sword shall wield, Another hand the standard wave, Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.
More Quotes from William Cullen Bryant:
Ere, in the northern gale, The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, Have put their glory on.William Cullen Bryant
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. . . .
William Cullen Bryant
Thy early smile has stayed my walkBut midst the gorgeous blooms of May,I passed thee on thy humble stalk.
William Cullen Bryant
Oh mother of a mighty race,Yet lovely in thy youthful graceThe elder dames, thy haughty peers,Admire and hate thy blooming years.
William Cullen Bryant
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
William Cullen Bryant
There is a power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, --
William Cullen Bryant
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