William Cullen Bryant
William Cullen Bryant Poems
|123.||Love And Folly||12/31/2002|
|124.||Hymn To Death||12/31/2002|
|125.||To A Cloud||12/31/2002|
|127.||The Yellow Violet||1/3/2003|
|128.||A Song For New Year's Eve||12/5/2011|
|130.||The Gladness Of Nature||1/3/2003|
|131.||After A Tempest||1/3/2003|
|133.||A Winter Piece||4/5/2010|
|134.||A Forest Hymn||1/3/2003|
|136.||A Northern Legend||4/5/2010|
|137.||The Death Of The Flowers||1/3/2003|
|139.||A Summer Ramble||4/5/2010|
|140.||To A Waterfowl||1/3/2003|
Comments about William Cullen Bryant
A Summer Ramble
The quiet August noon has come,
A slumberous silence fills the sky,
The fields are still, the woods are dumb,
In glassy sleep the waters lie.
And mark yon soft white clouds that rest
Above our vale, a moveless throng;
The cattle on the mountain's breast
Enjoy the grateful shadow long.
Oh, how unlike those merry hours
In early June when Earth laughs out,
When the fresh winds make love to flowers,
And woodlands sing and waters shout.
When in the grass sweet voices talk,
And strains of tiny music swell
From every moss-cup of the rock,
The Death Of The Flowers
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread;
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood
In brighter light and softer airs, a b