William Cullen Bryant ( 10 of 52 )
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.
The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
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The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication.
Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its read more
Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness
Come when the rains
Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice,
While the slant read more
Come when the rains
Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice,
While the slant sun of February pours
Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach!
The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps
And the broad arching portals of the grove
Welcome thy entering.
Wild was the day; the wintry sea
Moaned sadly on New England's strand,
When first the thoughtful read more
Wild was the day; the wintry sea
Moaned sadly on New England's strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
Our fathers, trod the desert land.
Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew,
And colour's with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the read more
Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew,
And colour's with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.
A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty.
A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty.
Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.
Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.
