Bryant Poem by Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta

Bryant



Like the ancient Grecian marbles,
Is his soul with beauty fraught,
And as polished and enduring
Is the sculpture of his thought.

In the Pantheon of our country,
The Valhalla of her fame,
On the record of her poets,
First of all is traced his name.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success