William Cullen Bryant

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

William Cullen Bryant Poems

81. The Winds 4/5/2010
82. Song Of The Stars 4/5/2010
83. March 4/5/2010
84. Love In The Age Of Chivalry 4/5/2010
85. A Meditation On Rhode-Island Coal 4/5/2010
86. From The Spanish Of Villegas 4/5/2010
87. The Prairies 4/5/2010
88. Green River 4/5/2010
89. From The Spanish Of Pedro De Castro Y Anaya 4/5/2010
90. The Waning Moon 4/5/2010
91. An Indian At The Burial-Place Of His Fathers. 4/5/2010
92. An Indian Story 4/5/2010
93. Fatima And Raduan 4/5/2010
94. The Future Life 4/5/2010
95. The Living Lost 1/3/2003
96. The African Chief 4/5/2010
97. A Scene At The Banks Of The Hudson 4/5/2010
98. The West Wind 1/3/2003
99. The Lapse Of Time 4/5/2010
100. The White-Footed Deer 4/5/2010
101. Earth 4/5/2010
102. A Hymn Of The Sea 4/5/2010
103. A Summer Ramble 4/5/2010
104. West Wind, The 12/31/2002
105. The Skies 1/3/2003
106. A Northern Legend 4/5/2010
107. Autumn Woods 4/5/2010
108. Hymn Of The City 1/3/2003
109. To Cole, The Painter, Departing For Europe 4/5/2010
110. A Walk At Sunset 4/5/2010
111. America 4/5/2010
112. The Strange Lady 1/3/2003
113. To The Fringed Gentian 12/31/2002
114. A Presentiment 4/5/2010
115. Life Of The Blessed 4/5/2010
116. Spring In Town 12/31/2002
117. A Song Of Pitcairn's Island 12/31/2002
118. June 1/3/2003
119. The Constellations 1/3/2003
120. The Greek Boy 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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