122 Quotes by William Cullen Bryant

Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, The foul and hissing bolt of scorn; For with thy side shall dwell, at last, The victory of endurance born

So they, who climb to wealth, forgetThe friends in darker fortunes tried.I copied them -- but I regretThat I should ape the ways of pride.

The moon is at her full, and, riding high,Floods the calm fields with light.The airs that hover in the summer skyAre all asleep to-night.

Deep in the brightness of the skiesThe thronging years in glory rise.And, as they fleet,Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died,The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side. . . .

A world of blossoms for the bee, Flowers for the sick girl's silent room, For the glad infant sprigs of bloom, We plant with the apple tree.

All at onceA fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream,And I am in the wilderness alone.

All at once A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream, And I am in the wilderness alone.

They talk of short-lived pleasures: be it so; pain dies as quickly, and lets her weary the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.