William Cullen Bryant

Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her read more

Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.

The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
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The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;
All through her silent watches, gliding slow,
Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.

Thine eyes are springs in whose serene
And silent waters heaven is seen.
Their lashes are the read more

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.

The February sunshine steeps your boughs
And tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

The February sunshine steeps your boughs
And tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.

And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.