And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
-- The Death of the Flowers
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
-- The Death of the Flowers
Related:
- The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- The Death of the Flowe... - Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste. -- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- Thanatopsi
- The hills,
Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- Thanatopsi... - The victory of endurance born. -- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- The Battle-Field
- Whose house is this? What street are we in? Why did you bring me here?
--William Cullen Bryant, poet, 1794-1878... - All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- Thanatopsi... - Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- Thanatopsi... - The groves were God's first temples. -- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) -- A Forest Hym
- Weep not that the world changes -- did it keep a stable, changeless
state, it were cause indeed to weep.
-- William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)...
