William Cullen Bryant

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.

I worship the quicksand he walks in.

I worship the quicksand he walks in.

The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel
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The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel
To clasp the boughs above.

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggarts and read more

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggarts and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat.

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.