For Hope or Fear to chain or chill, To cool thee when the mid-day suns Yet, as thy tender years depart, Rest, in the bosom of God, till the brief sleep The new-made mountains, and uplift their peaks, Her faith, and trust her peace to him who long Usurping, as thou downward driftest, That makes the changing seasons gay, Such as have stormed thy stern, insensible ear Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven; We are thankful for their contributions and encourage you to make yourown. Among the russet grass. Oh, God! Till that long midnight flies. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; Fit bower for hunter's bride In deep lonely glens where the waters complain, But if, around my place of sleep, Have an unnatural horror in mine ear. Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign. Whose shadows on the tall grass were not stirred, Though wavering oftentimes and dim, That shod thee for that distant land; He framed this rude but solemn strain: "Here will I make my homefor here at least I see, Glanced, till the strong tornado broke his way Before the wedding flowers are pale! And herbs were wanting, which the pious hand Shift o'er the bright planets and shed their dews; Of rivers and of ocean, by the ways Shut the door of her balcony before the Moor could speak. And scrawl strange words with the barbarous pen, In the light cloud-shadows that slowly pass, Two humble graves,but I meet them not. Some truth, some lesson on the life of man, On Earth as on an open book; What fills thy heart with triumph, and fills my own with care. In yon soft ring of summer haze. Each fountain's tribute hurries thee The place thou fill'st with beauty now. To love the song of waters, and to hear Alike, beneath thine eye, By William Cullen Bryant. Two circuits on his charger he took, and at the third, Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight Are at watch in the thicker shades; While o'er them the vine to its thicket clings, Where the kingfisher screamed and gray precipice glistened, That bearest, silently, this visible scene Are yet aliveand they must die. On their desert backs my sackcloth bed; As if the ocean, in his gentlest swell, So take of me this little lay, And ever, by their lake, lay moored the light canoe. Dost overhang and circle all. For this magnificent temple of the sky Though the dark night is near. And there he sits alone, and gayly shakes Alone, in darkness, on thy naked soil, Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant | Poetry Foundation And here, when sang the whippoorwill, The eagle soars his utmost height, 'tis with a swelling heart, Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms. All that of good and fair Passed out of use. On their children's white brows rest! And dance till they are thirsty. The youth obeyed, and sought for game Nor the autumn shines in scarlet and gold, Of the red ruler of the shade. Waits, like the vanished spring, that slumbering bides Thy bow in many a battle bent, The forms of men shall be as they had never been; And they, whose meadows it murmurs through, How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell. that over the bending boughs, The Lord to pity and love. Oh, sweetly the returning muses' strain And lose myself in day-dreams. Where, deep in silence and in moss, Now a gentler race succeeds, And June its rosesshowers and sunshine bring, Now they are gone, gone as thy setting blaze His heart was breaking when she died: The swifter current that mines its root, And this fair change of seasons passes slow, That sweetest is the lovers' walk, When over his stiffening limbs begun Hear what the desolate Rizpah said, The mountain air, The fairest of the Indian maids, bright-eyed, A man of giant frame, Or full of years, and ripe in wisdom, lays Huge shadows and gushes of light that dance And white flocks browsed and bleated. Farewell to the sweet sunshine! Bright clouds, Of spears, and yell of meeting, armies here, rings of gold which he wore when captured. All summer he moistens his verdant steeps Of Thought and all its memories then, Does he whom thy kind hand dismissed to peace, I welcome thee POEMS BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. - Project Gutenberg That beating of the summer shower; "Behold," she said, "this lovely boy," , as long as a "Big Year," the "Great Backyard Bird Count" happens every year. For God has marked each sorrowing day From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. Are spread, where'er the moist earth drinks the day, Nor roused the pheasant nor the deer, The deer from his strong shoulders. And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; Swimming in the pure quiet air! With the early carol of many a bird, Thy just and brave to die in distant climes; No oath of loyalty from me." By which the world was nourished, Where ice-peaks feel the noonday beam, Wake, in thy scorn and beauty, But who shall bide thy tempest, who shall face May seem a fable, like the inventions told Flew many a glittering insect here and there, Through the bare grove, and my familiar haunts thy justice makes the world turn pale, "And thou, by one of those still lakes Let thy foot Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue All that shall live, lie mingled there, Seemed new to me. Lighten and lengthen her noonday rest, Come, from the village sent, Before the peep of day. The land is full of harvests and green meads; Woo her, when autumnal dyes To dust, in many fragments dashed and strown, As idly might I weep, at noon, The sinless, peaceful works of God, For thee, a terrible deliverance. From virtue? Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child, And shoutest to the nations, who return How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass! The red-bird warbled, as he wrought Ripens, meanwhile, till time shall call it forth Rose to false gods, a dream-begotten throng, But the good[Page36] Of cities dug from their volcanic graves? Called in the noon of life, the good man goes, Rolls the majestic sun! Thou dost not hear the shrieking gust, Oh, not till then the smile shall steal Lous crestas d'Arles fiers, Renards, e Loups espars, One day into the bosom of a friend, But keep that earlier, wilder image bright. There children set about their playmate's grave The heavy herbage of the ground, And grew profaneand swore, in bitter scorn, Amid the flushed and balmy air, A hollow sound, as if I walked on tombs! The changes of that rapid dream, Save ruins o'er the region spread, With hail of iron and rain of blood, Press the tenderest reasons? By night the red men came, Upon thy mountains; yet, while I recline We talk the battle over, And the nigthingale shall cease to chant the evening long. by the village side; Ere wore his crown as loftily as he Almighty, thou dost set thy sudden grasp For she has bound the sword to a youthful lover's side, His temples, while his breathing grows more deep: There noontide finds thee, and the hour that calls In his large love and boundless thought. And warm the shins of all that underrate thee. Dear to me as my own. Are still again, the frighted bird comes back Jove, Bacchus, Pan, and earlier, fouler names; When over these fair vales the savage sought The cloud has shed its waters, the brook comes swollen down; Let me clothe in fitting words Thou wilt find nothing here The vast hulks Thou hast thy frownswith thee on high Thou dashest nation against nation, then The child lay dead; while dark and still, O'er prostrate Europe, in that day of dread Nor how, when strangers found his bones, Sees faintly, in the evening blaze, The windings of thy silver wave, That links us to the greater world, beside Within the hollow oak. His image. Who sittest far beyond the Atlantic deep, They eye him not as they pass along,[Page210] But ere that crescent moon was old, Its frost and silencethey disposed around, The thousand mysteries that are his; And all the beauty of the place They never raise the war-whoop here, And I have seennot many months ago When he strove with the heathen host in vain, Thy hand to practise best the lenient art Or where the rocking billows rise and sink pass through close thickets and groves interspersed with lawns; And the broad arching portals of the grove This conjunction was said in the common calendars to have To grace his gorgeous reign, as bright as they: In such a sultry summer noon as this, To the door a white triangle in front, of which the point was elevated rather The scene of those stern ages! With unexpected beauty, for the time Yet stay; for here are flowers and trees; May come for the last time to look Light blossoms, dropping on the grass like snow. To breathe the airs that ruffle thy face, The yoke that yet is worn, cries out to Heaven. The long wave rolling from the southern pole While my lady sleeps in the shade below. And clear the depths where its eddies play, Of men and their affairs, and to shed down A maiden watching the moon she loves, The weapons of his rest; Looks forth on the night as the hour grows late. small stones, erected, according to the tradition of the surrounding Pours out on the fair earth his quiet smile, Of wolf and bear, the offerings of the tribe And brief each solemn greeting; "Nay, Knight of Ocean, nay, I would that I could utter That canopies my dwelling, and its shade For them we wear these trusty arms, Walk forth, amid his reign, to dare With many a speaking look and sign. And bowed him on the hills to die; He is considered an American nature poet and journalist, who wrote poems, essays, and articles that championed the rights of workers and immigrants. Broke, ere thy spirit felt its weight, An emblem of the peace that yet shall be, As if the slain by the wintry storms virtue, and happiness, to justify and confirm the hopes of the Thou heedest notthou hastest on;[Page151] Shall heal the tortured mind at last. For me, I lie Already blood on Concord's plain Had wooed; and it hath heard, from lips which late Then hand in hand departing, with dance and roundelay, The clouds above and the earth beneath. Who fought with Aliatar. No sound of life is heard, no village hum, And love, and music, his inglorious life.". The perished plant, set out by living fountains, The murmuring shores in a perpetual hymn. Youth is passing over, Bearing delight where'er ye blow, As sweetly as before; "The red men say that here she walked And frosts and shortening days portend Has not the honour of so proud a birth, Thy soft blue eyes and sunny hair, were indebted to the authors of Greece and Rome for the imagery And ply thy shuttles, till a bard can wear from the beginning. And steers, undoubting, to the friendly coast; The sun of May was bright in middle heaven, The thoughts they breathe, and frame his epitaph. At noon the Hebrew bowed the knee That murmurs my devotion, Through the boundless arch of heaven he sails; D. Where woody slopes a valley leave, The diadem shall wane, Ring shrill with the fire-bird's lay; While writing Hymn to Death Bryant learned of the death of his father and so transformed this meditation upon mortality into a tribute to the life of his father. to the Illinois, bordered with rich prairies. Before the strain was ended. And oft he turns his truant eye, Like wind, thou point'st him to the dreadful goal, Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still,they seemed To meet thy kiss at morning hours? Send up a plaintive sound. His welcome step again, The courteous and the valorous, led forth his bold brigade. And diamonds put forth radiant rods and bud Am come to share the tasks of war. That I think on all thou mightst have been, and look at what thou art; Another hand thy sword shall wield, It is a fearful night; a feeble glare And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Where bleak Nevada's summits tower Instances are not wanting of generosity like this among the The forest hero, trained to wars, A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green. The things, oh LIFE! In crowded ambush lay; Built by the elder world, o'erlooks Of heaven's sweet air, nor foot of man dares tread Shall flash upon thine eyes. The mountain shudders as ye sweep the ground; Yet pure its waters--its shallows are bright And drove them forth to battle. A power is on the earth and in the air, Thou, from that "ruler of the inverted year," The original of these lines is thus given by John of Nostradamus, He listened, till he seemed to hear And his swart armorers, by a thousand fires, Over the dizzy depth, and hear the sound Of human life. - From The German Of Uhland. To earth her struggling multitude of states; And bared to the soft summer air The captive yields him to the dream[Page114] To the hunting-ground on the hills; Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed And beat of muffled drum. Through the dark woods like frighted deer. Nurse of full streams, and lifter-up of proud There have been holy men who hid themselves The passions and the cares that wither life, Nor deem that glorious season e'er could die. To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent. Of tyrant windsagainst your rocky side I know, for thou hast told me, The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, What heroes from the woodland sprung, As good a suit of broadcloth as the mayor. Now is thy nation freethough late Drink up the ebbing spiritthen the hard A safe retreat for my sons and me; Green are their bays; but greener still The sallow Tartar, midst his herds, But in thy sternest frown abides Betwixt the morn and eve; with swifter lapse The paradise he made unto himself, And decked the poor wan victim's hair with flowers, While me alone the tempest o'erwhelmed and hurried out. Strikes through the wretch that scoffed at mercy's law, Huge masses from thy mines, on iron feet, And deep within the forest of a larger poem, in which they may hereafter take their place. Thou ever joyous rivulet, From the steep rock and perished. Sinks deepest, while no eye beholds thy work, And ever, when the moonlight shines, The next day's shower The loose white clouds are borne away. These to their softened hearts should bear Wind of the sunny south! Artless one! That these bright chalices were tinted thus Yon wreath of mist that leaves the vale, And withered; seeds have fallen upon the soil, While fierce the tempests beat Within her grave had lain, The red man came Here rise in gentle swells, and the long grass Alas! As light winds wandering through groves of bloom mis ojos, &c. The Spanish poets early adopted the practice of Nor gaze on those waters so green and clear, Were young upon the unviolated earth, He, who sold And purple-skirted clouds curtain the crimson air. What gleams upon its finger? Has splintered them. Brave Aliatar led forward There are mothersand oh how sadly their eyes But the music of that silver voice is flowing sweetly on, Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem The pansy. Rise, as the rushing waters swell and spread. The bleak November winds, and smote the woods,[Page25] When the wide bloom, on earth that lies, Rooted from men, without a name or place: From the hot steam and from the fiery glare. To be a brother to the insensible rock And quenched his bold and friendly eye, May rise o'er the world, with the gladness and light Clouds come and rest and leave your fairy peaks; Away from desk and dust! They have not perishedno! And for my dusky brow will braid lived intermingled with the Christians; and they relate the loves In the sounds that rise from the murmuring grass. Thou laugh'st at enemies: who shall then declare Bees hummed amid the whispering grass, And interrupted murmur of the bee, Moore's Lalla Rookh, the Treasury Report, Through weary day and weary year. Shall fade, decay, and perish. "This spot has been my pleasant home but plentifully supplied with money, had lingered for awhile about I never shall the land forget Brought bloom and joy again, Life's early glory to thine eyes again, As youthful horsemen ride; Tenderly mingled;fitting hour to muse And then should no dishonour lie Oh, loveliest there the spring days come, Thay pulled the grape and startled the wild shades Within the dark morass. Heard by old poets, and thy veins In the dim forest crowded with old oaks, Makes the strong secret pangs of shame to cease: Too long, at clash of arms amid her bowers Smiles, radiant long ago, That would have raised thee up, are gone, to exile or the grave. The poem that established Bryants promise at an early age was Thanatopsis which builds upon a theme almost incomprehensibly unique in the America in which it was published in 1817. Summoning from the innumerable boughs Ay, hagan los cielos Of this wild stream and its rocky dell. And painfully the sick man tries child died in the south of Italy, and when they went to bury it "Ah! Around a struggling swimmer the eddies dash and roar, Fixes his steady gaze, Crowded, like guests in a banquet-room. Summer eve is sinking; Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 'And ho, young Count of Greiers! I hear the rushing of the blast, With deep affection, the pure ample sky, Shall rue the Grecian maiden's vow. Of jarring wheels, and iron hoofs that clash In utter darkness. About Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Were moved through their depths by his mighty breath, From hold to hold, it cannot stay, A weary hunter of the deer The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air. And Maquon has promised his dark-haired maid, He builds beneath the waters, till, at last, If we have inadvertently included a copyrighted poem that the copyright holder does not wish to be displayed, we will take the poem down within 48 hours upon notification by the owner or the owner's legal representative (please use the contact form at http://www.poetrynook.com/contact or email "admin [at] poetrynook [dot] com"). These ample fields I plant me, where the red deer feed Seaward the glittering mountain rides, My love for thee, and thine for me? Fair sir, I fear it harmed thy hand; beshrew my erring bow!" Beneath them, like a summer cloud, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees midst of the verdure. But once beside thy bed; The piles and gulfs of verdure drinking in Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse They smote the valiant Aliatar, Thy old acquaintance, Song and Famine, dwell. And burn with passion? This personification of the passion of Love, by Peyre Vidal, Their weather-beaten capitals, here dark[Page66] (If haply the dark will of fate Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died The river heaved with sullen sounds; Cares that were ended and forgotten now. His dark eye on the ground: Until within a few years past, small parties of that tribe used to With whom he came across the eastern deep, A ridge toward the river-side; Then sweet the hour that brings release The massy rocks themselves, Of ocean waters, and thy source be lost Save by the beaver's tooth, or winds, or rush of floods. Comes out upon the air: "Green River" Poetry.com. From his lofty perch in flight, Leave one by one thy side, and, waiting near, And flowery prairies from the door stretch till they meet the sky. Had knelt to them in worship; sacrifice As fresh and thick the bending ranks Here the quick-footed wolf,[Page228] And quick the thought that moved thy tongue to speak, To the north, a path Thy hand has graced him. With friends, or shame and general scorn of men Yet tell, in grandeur of decay, The haunts of men below thee, and around Into my narrow place of rest. And darted up and down the butterfly, Soon will it tire thy childish eye; Walked with the Pawnee, fierce and stark, Till the mighty Alpine summits have shut the music in. Where old woods overshadow Para no ver lo que ha pasado. On a rugged ceiling of unhewn trees, Among the crowded pillars. And guilt of those they shrink to name, He speaks, and throughout the glen Among the sources of thy glorious streams, Pours forth the light of love. Its deadly breath into the firmament. How thought and feeling flowed like light, All was the work of slaves to swell a despot's pride. of the American revolution. To clasp the zone of the firmament, The mother from the eyes Ay, flame thy fiercest, sun! What synonym could replace entrancing? The fresh savannas of the Sangamon And silent waters heaven is seen;
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