The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night. William C. Bryant More Quotes by William C. Bryant More Quotes From William C. Bryant Still sweet with blossoms is the year's fresh prime. William C. Bryant spring sweet years God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery. William C. Bryant pale misery guilt It is a sultry day; the sun has drunk William C. Bryant flower summer morning The press, important as is its office, is but the servant of the human intellect, and its ministry is for good or for evil, according to the character of those who direct it. The press is a mill which grinds all that is put into its hopper. Fill the hopper with poisoned grain, and it will grind it to meal, but there is death in the bread. William C. Bryant office evil character The victory of endurance born. William C. Bryant endurance born victory I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn. William C. Bryant grieving promise On rolls the stream with a perpetual sigh; William C. Bryant rocks land flower There is a Power whose care William C. Bryant providence care way Gently - so have good men taught - William C. Bryant grief journey death But Winter has yet brighter scenes-he boasts William C. Bryant autumn summer winter The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee. William C. Bryant gay laughing art The sad and solemn night hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires; William C. Bryant stars dark night 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 C. Bryant dream death lying The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within. William C. Bryant february bud sunshine These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end. William C. Bryant aimless-life fate struggle Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered. William C. Bryant dies flower spring The mighty Rain William C. Bryant empires rain sky All great poets have been men of great knowledge. William C. Bryant great-knowledge poet men A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, William C. Bryant dog sleep doors Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven William C. Bryant errors shapes earth
