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 linden, in the fervors of July,
Hums with a louder concert. When the wind
Sweeps the read more

The linden, in the fervors of July,
Hums with a louder concert. When the wind
Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime,
As when some master-hand exulting sweeps
The keys of some great organ, ye give forth
The music of the woodland depths, a hymn
Of gladness and of thanks.

Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
read more

Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood
And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart.

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on read more

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,
Thy figure floats along.

The groves were God's first temples.

The groves were God's first temples.