William Cullen Bryant

(November 3, 1794 – June 12, 1878 / Boston)

William Cullen Bryant Poems

1. Robert Of Lincoln 5/21/2015
2. Among The Trees 3/27/2015
3. The Wind And Stream 2/9/2015
4. The Planting Of The Apple-Tree 12/24/2014
5. The Old Man's Counsel 4/5/2010
6. The Knight's Epitaph 4/5/2010
7. The Maiden's Sorrow 4/5/2010
8. The Massacre At Scio 4/5/2010
9. The Return Of Youth 4/5/2010
10. The Past 4/5/2010
11. The Two Graves 4/5/2010
12. Song From The Spanish Of Iglesias 4/5/2010
13. The Arctic Lover 4/5/2010
14. The Damsel Of Peru 4/5/2010
15. The Indian Girl's Lament 4/5/2010
16. Noon 4/5/2010
17. The Death Of Aliatar 4/5/2010
18. The Twenty-Second Of December 4/5/2010
19. Mary Magdalen 4/5/2010
20. The Siesta 4/5/2010
21. The Death Of Schiller 4/5/2010
22. The Hunter Of The Prairies 4/5/2010
23. Romero 4/5/2010
24. Ode For An Agricultural Celebration 4/5/2010
25. The Count Of Griers 4/5/2010
26. Song Of The Greek Amazon 4/5/2010
27. The Conqueror’s Grave 4/5/2010
28. The Child's Funeral 4/5/2010
29. No Man Knoweth His Sepulchre 4/5/2010
30. I Cannot Forget With What Fervid Devotion 4/5/2010
31. In Memory Of John Lothrop Motley 4/5/2010
32. The Hunter's Serenade 4/5/2010
33. Lines On Revisiting The Country 4/5/2010
34. Song 4/5/2010
35. The Painted Cup 4/5/2010
36. The Fountain 4/5/2010
37. The Evening Wind 4/5/2010
38. The Burial Place 4/5/2010
39. The Antiquity Of Freedom 4/5/2010
40. Song Of Marion's Men 4/5/2010

Comments about William Cullen Bryant

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  • Codee (5/10/2018 4:14:00 PM)

    It is a creole asking

    4 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • stine (4/28/2018 7:32:00 PM)

    tell me not a mournful number, life is but a empty dream, for the soul is dead that slumbers and life is not what it seems

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Best Poem of William Cullen Bryant

To A Waterfowl

Whither, midst falling dew,
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue
Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong
As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,
Thy figure floats along.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sing
On the chafed ocean side?

There is a Power whose care
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast--
The desert and illimitable air-- ...

Read the full of To A Waterfowl


Ay, thou art for the grave; thy glances shine
Too brightly to shine long; another Spring
Shall deck her for men's eyes---but not for thine---
Sealed in a sleep which knows no wakening.
The fields for thee have no medicinal leaf,
And the vexed ore no mineral of power;
And they who love thee wait in anxious grief
Till the slow plague shall bring the final hour.
Glide softly to thy rest then; Death should come

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