Poems by William Cullen Bryant, Volume 2


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Página 16 - Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest, when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night; Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.
Página 32 - Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil ; We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind That in the pine-top grieves, And slumber long and sweetly On beds of oaken leaves.
Página 34 - With kindliest welcoming, With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear these trusty arms, And lay them down no more Till we have driven the Briton Forever from our shore.
Página 23 - THESE are the gardens of the Desert, these The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, For which the speech of England has no name — • The Prairies.
Página 209 - While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him, To tend the quiet flock and watch the stars, And teach the reed to utter simple airs. Thou by his side, amid the tangled wood, Didst war upon the panther and the wolf, His only foes ; and thou with him didst draw The earliest furrow on the mountain-side, Soft with the deluge.
Página 26 - Till twilight blushed, and lovers walked, and wooed In a forgotten language, and old tunes, From instruments of unremembered form, Gave the soft winds a voice.
Página 165 - The eternal years of God are hers ; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers. Yea, though thou lie upon the dust, When they who helped thee flee in fear. Die full of hope and manly trust, Like those who fell in battle here. Another hand thy sword shall wield, Another hand the standard wave, Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.
Página 167 - The love that lived through all the stormy past, And meekly with my harsher nature bore, And deeper grew, and tenderer to the last — Shall it expire with life, and be no more ? A happier lot than mine, and larger light, Await thee there ; for thou hast bowed thy will In cheerful homage to the rule of right, And lovest all, and renderest good for ill. For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell Shrink and consume my heart, as heat the scroll ; And wrath hath left its scar — that fire of hell Has...
Página 50 - His own loved flock beneath his eye is fed. He guides, and near him they Follow delighted, for he makes them go Where dwells eternal May, And heavenly roses blow, Deathless, and gathered but again to grow. He leads them to the height Named of the infinite and long-sought Good, And fountains of delight ; And where his feet have stood Springs up, along the way, their tender food.
Página 198 - Who next, of those I love, Shall pass from life, or, sadder yet, shall fall From virtue ? Strife with foes, or bitterer strife With friends, or shame and general scorn of men — Which who can bear ? — or the fierce rack of pain, Lie they within my path ? Or shall the years Push me, with soft and inoffensive pace, Into the stilly twilight of my age...

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