William Cullen Bryant ( 10 of 52 )
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came read more
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton's hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
read more
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
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.
The daffodil is our doorside queen;
She pushes upward the sword already,
To spot with sunshine the read more
The daffodil is our doorside queen;
She pushes upward the sword already,
To spot with sunshine the early green.
What plant we in this apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs
To load the May-wind's read more
What plant we in this apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs
To load the May-wind's restless wings,
When, from the orchard-row, he pours
Its fragrance through our open doors;
A world of blossoms for the bee,
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room,
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom,
We plant with the apple tree.
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.
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
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Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
Forget-me-not, and violets, heavenly blue,
Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew.
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
