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" Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower. "
William C. Bryant
Lovely
Earth
Beyond
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" Eloquence is the poetry of prose. "
William C. Bryant
Prose
Poetry
Eloquence
" Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger. "
William C. Bryant
Truth
Her
Run
" To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language. "
William C. Bryant
Love
Nature
She
" Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring? "
William C. Bryant
Where
Find
Bring
" The groves were God's first temples. "
William C. Bryant
God
First
Were
" There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by. "
William C. Bryant
Loving
Glory
Eye
" A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep. "
William C. Bryant
Cause
State
Weep
" The little windflower, whose just opened eye is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at. "
William C. Bryant
Heaven
Eye
Blue
" Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings. "
William C. Bryant
Forth
List
Go
" Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign. "
William C. Bryant
Reign
Her
Prisoners
" All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom. "
William C. Bryant
Globe
Tread
Slumber
" The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within. "
William C. Bryant
Leaves
Sunshine
Within
" A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty. "
William C. Bryant
Chisel
Beauty
Sculptor
" Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook. "
William C. Bryant
Look
Herbs
Heaven
" Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep. "
William C. Bryant
Changes
World
Keep
" Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully. "
William C. Bryant
Thought
Most
Imagination
" And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death. "
William C. Bryant
Year
Death
Grow
" Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness. "
William C. Bryant
Innocence
Remorse
Virtue
" 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 tonight. "
William C. Bryant
Calm
Light
Moon