William Cullen Bryant

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

William Cullen Bryant Poems

41. Song Of Marion's Men 4/5/2010
42. The Green Mountain Boys 4/5/2010
43. The Death Of Schiller 4/5/2010
44. The Greek Partisan 4/5/2010
45. The Conjunction Of Jupiter And Venus 4/5/2010
46. The Death Of Slavery 4/5/2010
47. Sonnet From The Portuguese Of Semedo 4/5/2010
48. Seventy-Six 4/5/2010
49. Monument Mountain 4/5/2010
50. When The Firmament Quivers With Daylight's Young Beam 4/5/2010
51. The Hunter's Vision 4/5/2010
52. The Hurricane 4/5/2010
53. The Ages 4/5/2010
54. To The Apennines 4/5/2010
55. To The River Arve 4/5/2010
56. The Alcayde Of Molina 4/5/2010
57. The Stream Of Life 4/5/2010
58. Oh Fairest Of The Rural Maids 4/5/2010
59. The Serenade 4/5/2010
60. The Old Man's Funeral 4/5/2010
61. The Disinterred Warrior 4/5/2010
62. Version Of A Fragment Of Simonides 4/5/2010
63. Catterskill Falls 4/5/2010
64. The Crowded Street 4/5/2010
65. The Burial Place 4/5/2010
66. From: An Evening Revery 4/5/2010
67. The Murdered Traveller 4/5/2010
68. Hymn To The North Star 4/5/2010
69. The Journey Of Life 4/5/2010
70. The New Moon 4/5/2010
71. The Rivulet 4/5/2010
72. My Autumn Walk 4/5/2010
73. Upon The Mountain's Distant Head 4/5/2010
74. The Death Of Abraham Lincoln 4/5/2010
75. The Battle-Field 4/5/2010
76. Midsummer 4/5/2010
77. Life 4/5/2010
78. Lines In Memory Of William Leggett 4/5/2010
79. The Winds 4/5/2010
80. Song Of The Stars 4/5/2010

Comments about William Cullen Bryant

  • Codee (5/10/2018 4:14:00 PM)

    It is a creole asking

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  • 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

Best Poem of William Cullen Bryant


To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty; and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the ...

Read the full of Thanatopsis

The Gladness Of Nature

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,
When our mother Nature laughs around;
When even the deep blue heavens look glad,
And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren,
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;
The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den,
And the wilding bee hums merrily by.

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