American poet & newspaper editor (1794-1878)
Weep not that the world changes -- did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Mutation"
Autumn ... the year's last, loveliest smile.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Indian Summer"
The past is now like a charnel-house, where the dead do but bury the dead.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
letter to Henry Clay, March 2, 1827
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
Thanatopsis
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
Thanatopsis
The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood"
There is a day of sunny rest
For every dark and troubled night;
And grief may bide an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Blessed are They that Mourn"
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,
And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"November"
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"The Battle-Field"
The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears;
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are promises of happier years.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Blessed are They that Mourn"
The groves were God's first temples.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"A Forest Hymn"
The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Hymn to the North Star"
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Death of the Flowers"
Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying,
Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"The Battle-Field"
Lament who will, in fruitless tears,
The speed with which our moments fly;
I sigh not over vanished years,
But watch the years that hasten by.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"The Lapse of Time"
I would make
Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit
Patiently by the way-side, while I traced
The mazes of the pleasant wilderness
Around me. She should be my counsellor,
But not my tyrant. For the spirit needs
Impulses from a deeper source than hers,
And there are motions, in the mind of man,
That she must look upon with awe.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"The Conjunction of Jupiter and Venus"
I broke the spell that held me long,
The dear, dear witchery of song.
I said, the poet's idle lore
Shall waste my prime of years no more,
For Poetry, though heavenly born,
Consorts with poverty and scorn.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"I Broke the Spell that Held Me Long"
Though nameless, trampled, and forgot,
His servant's humble ashes lie,
Yet God has marked and sealed the spot,
To call its inmate to the sky.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"No Man Knoweth His Sepulchre"
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase
Are fruits of innocence and blessedness.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"Mutation"
What! grieve that time has brought so soon
The sober age of manhood on!
As idly might I weep, at noon,
To see the blush of morning gone.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
"The Lapse of Time"