William Cullen Bryant Poems

ON woodlands ruddy with autumn
The amber sunshine lies;
I look on the beauty round me,
And tears come into my eyes.
...

This little rill, that from the springs
Of yonder grove its current brings,
Plays on the slope a while, and then
...

When, as the garish day is done,
Heaven burns with the descended sun,
'Tis passing sweet to mark,
...

Beneath the waning moon I walk at night,
And muse on human life--for all around
Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight,
...

The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;
...

When spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
...

The summer day is closed--the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
...

Gather him to his grave again,
And solemnly and softly lay,
Beneath the verdure of the plain,
The warrior's scattered bones away.
...

Let me move slowly through the street,
Filled with an ever-shifting train,
Amid the sound of steps that beat
...

The night winds howled--the billows dashed
Against the tossing chest;
And Danae to her broken heart
Her slumbering infant pressed.
...