English Poems – Page 72

More English Poems

• To a Waterfowl

  whither, midst falling dew,
  While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
  Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue …

  William Cullen Bryant

• O Fairest of the Rural Maids

  O fairest of the rural maids!
  Thy birth was in the forest shades;
  Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• A Forest Hymn

  The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man learned
  To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
  And spread the roof above them—ere he framed …

  William Cullen Bryant

• June

  I gazed upon the glorious sky
  And the green mountains round,
  And thought that when I came to lie …

  William Cullen Bryant

• 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; …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Past

  thou unrelenting Past!
  Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain,
  And fetters, sure and fast, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Evening Wind

  Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
  That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day,
  Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow; …

  William Cullen Bryant

• To the Fringed Gentian

  Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
  And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
  That openest when the quiet light …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Hunter of the Prairies

  Ay, this is freedom!—these pure skies
  Were never stained with village smoke:
  The fragrant wind, that through them flies, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Battle-Field

  Once this soft turf, this rivulet ’s sands,
  Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
  And fiery hearts and armed hands …

  William Cullen Bryant

• From "An Evening Revery"

  o thou great Movement of the Universe,
  Or Change, or Flight of Time—for ye are one!
  That bearest, silently, this visible scene …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Antiquity of Freedom

  Here are old trees, tall oaks, and gnarlëd pines,
  That stream with gray-green mosses, here the ground
  Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Planting of the Apple-Tree

  come, let us plant the apple-tree.
  Cleave the tough greensward with the spade
  Wide let its hollow bed be made; …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The May Sun Sheds an Amber Light

  The may sun sheds an amber light
  On new-leaved woods and lawns between;
  But she who, with a smile more bright, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Conqueror's Grave

  Within this lowly grave a Conqueror lies,
  And yet the monument proclaims it not,
  Nor round the sleeper’s name hath chisel wrought …

  William Cullen Bryant

• My Autumn Walk

  On woodlands ruddy with autumn
  The amber sunshine lies;
  I look on the beauty round me, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Death of Slavery

  O thou great Wrong, that, through the slow-paced years,
  Didst hold thy millions fettered, and didst wield
  The scourge that drove the laborer to the field, …

  William Cullen Bryant

• In Memory of John Lothrop Motley

  Sleep, motley, with the great of ancient days,
  Who wrote for all the years that yet shall be!
  Sleep with Herodotus, whose name and praise …

  William Cullen Bryant

• The Flood of Years

  A mighty Hand, from an exhaustless Urn,
  Pours forth the never-ending Flood of Years,
  Among the nations. How the rushing waves …

  William Cullen Bryant

• Elegiac

  O, it is great for our country to die, where ranks are contending!
  Bright is the wreath of our fame; glory awaits us for aye,—
  Glory, that never is dim, shining on with light never ending,— …

  James Gates Percival

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