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Quotes by Bryant
78 quotations from The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations (1896), with the subject each one is filed under.
Bobolink. Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note; Braggarts and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat.— filed under Birds-Blackbird
Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest.— filed under Birds-Canary
Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings.— filed under Birds-Canary
Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.— filed under Birds-Sea Bird
Broad are these streams-my steed obeys, Plunges, and bears me through the tide. Wide are these woods-I tread the maze Of giant stems, nor ask a guide. I hunt till day's last glimmer dies O'er woody vale and glassy height; And kind the voice, and glad the eyes That welcome my return at night.— filed under Chase, The
Bough. No trumpet-blast profaned The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born; No bloody streamlet stained Earth's silver rivers on that sacred morn.— filed under Christmas
All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.— filed under Death
On rolls the stream with a perpetual sigh; The rocks moan wildly as it passes by; Hyssop and wormwood border all the strand, And not a flower adorns the dreary land.— filed under Desolation
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.— filed under Eyes
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and glen.— filed under Flirting
Where fall the tears of love the rose appears, And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears, Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew.— filed under Flirting
Immortality. Part II.-Classified Flora. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 247. Anemone. Within the woods, Whose young and half transparent leaves scarce cast A shade, gray circles of anemones Danced on their stalks.— filed under Flowers-Anemone
Bloodroot. Sanguinaria Canadensis. Sanguinaria from whose brittle stem The red drops fell like blood.— filed under Flowers-Azalea
Catalpa. Catalpa. The catalpa's blossoms flew, Light blossoms, dropping on the grass like snow.— filed under Flowers-Camomile
Gentian. Gentiana. And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.— filed under Flowers-Forget-Me-Not
Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew, And colour'd with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night.— filed under Flowers-Forget-Me-Not
The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love; The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above.— filed under Flowers-Ivy
Jasmine. Jasminum. And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in.— filed under Flowers-Ivy
Painted Cup. Castilleia. Scarlet tufts Are glowing in the green, like flakes of fire; The wanderers of the prairie know them well, And call that brilliant flower the Painted Cup.— filed under Flowers-Pansy
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.— filed under Flowers-Rose
And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood.— filed under Flowers-Sunflower
I know where the young May violet grows, In its lone and lowly nook.— filed under Flowers-Violet
The country ever has a lagging Spring, Waiting for May to call its violets forth.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Violets spring in the soft May shower.— filed under Flowers-Violet
When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird's warble know, The yellow violet's modest bell Peeps from the last year's leaves below.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Windflower. Anemone. Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers frail and fair.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
The little windflower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?— filed under Freedom
I gazed upon the glorious sky And the green mountains round, And thought that when I came to lie At rest within the ground, 'Twere pleasant that in flowery June When brooks send up a cheerful tune, And groves a joyous sound, The sexton's hand, my grave to make, The rich, green mountain turf should break.— filed under Gratitude
Midnight. Mosquito. Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out, And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing, Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing, tell And tell how little our large veins would bleed, how little our large veins would bleed, Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.— filed under Insects-Louse
Chronicles of Englande. 1570. 8vo. "A rule to knowe how many dayes every moneth in the yeare hath." Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; February eight-and-twenty all alone, And all the rest have thirty-one: Unless that leap-year doth combine, And give to February twenty-nine. Return from Parnassus. (London. 1606.) February. Come when the rains Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice, While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach! The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps And the broad arching portals of the grove Welcome thy entering.— filed under Months-February
The February sunshine steeps your boughs And tints the buds and swells the leaves within.— filed under Months-February
March. March. Its tree, Juniper. Its stone, Bloodstone. Its motto, "Courage and strength in times of danger." Old Saying. Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month! in praise of thee: Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.— filed under Months-March
The stormy March is come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast, That through the snowy valley flies. C.— filed under Months-March
April. 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. March. n.— filed under Months-April
When April winds Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up, Opened in airs of June her multitude Of golden chalices to humming birds And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.— filed under Months-April
June. I gazed upon the glorious sky And the green mountains round, And thought that when I came to lie At rest within the ground, 'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June, When brooks send up a cheerful tune, And groves a joyous sound, The sexton's hand, my grave to make, The rich, green mountain-turf should break.— filed under Months-June
July. The linden, in the fervors of July, Hums with a louder concert. When the wind Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime, As when some master-hand exulting sweeps The keys of some great organ, ye give forth The music of the woodland depths, a hymn Of gladness and of thanks.— filed under Months-July
August. The August cloud * * * suddenly Melts into streams of rain.— filed under Months-July
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near its death.— filed under Months-October
The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mould The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough Drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.— filed under Months-October
November. On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered; Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.— filed under Months-October
When shrieked The bleak November winds, and smote the woods, And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades That met above the merry rivulet Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still; they seemed Like old companions in adversity.— filed under Months-October
Wild was the day; the wintry sea Moaned sadly on New England's strand, When first the thoughtful and the free, Our fathers, trod the desert land.— filed under Months-November
Use of the Moon. 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.— filed under Monuments
The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.— filed under Morning
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.— filed under Nature
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms. she speaks A various language.— filed under Nature
Blacksmithing. And him who, with the steady sledge, Smites the shrill anvil all day long.— filed under Occupations-Authorship
Henry Roscoe's trans. A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.— filed under Occupations-Printing
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.— filed under Ocean
Album. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign; And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace.— filed under Peace
Sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.— filed under Resignation
The sun has drunk The dew that lay upon the morning grass; There is no rustling in the lofty elm That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Scarce cools me. All is silent save the faint And interrupted murmur of the bee, Settling on the sick flowers, and then again Instantly on the wing.— filed under Sows
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold aud crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in their freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.— filed under Sows
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.— filed under Sows
Look! the massy trunks Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray, Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, Is studded with its trembling water-drops, That glimmer with an amethystine light.— filed under Sows
The sad and solemn night Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires; The glorious host of light Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires; All through her silent watches, gliding slow, Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.— filed under Stars
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.— filed under Summer
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm To thy sick heart.— filed under Treason
a Wood. 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 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication. C. BRYANT A Forest Hymn. The shad-bush, white with flowers, Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut And quivering poplar to the roving breeze Gave a balsamic fragrance.— filed under Treason
Apple. Pyrus Malus. What plant we in this apple tree? Sweets for a hundred flowery springs To load the May-wind's restless wings, When, from the orchard-row, he pours Its fragrance through our open doors; 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.— filed under Trees And Plants-Acacia
Linden. Tilia. The linden in the fervors of July Hums with a louder concert.— filed under Trees And Plants-Linden
Pear. Pyrus Communis. I ask in vain Who planted on the slope this lofty group Of ancient pear-trees that with spring-time burst Into such breadth of bloom. C.— filed under Trees And Plants-Palm
Tulip-Tree. Liriodendron Tulipifera. Heed not the night; a summer lodge amid the wild is mine- 'Tis shadowed by the tulip-tree, 'tis mantled by the vine.— filed under Trees And Plants-Pine
The tulip-tree, high up, Opened, in airs of June, her multitude Of golden chalices to humming birds And silken-winged insects of the sky.— filed under Trees And Plants-Yew
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again: Th' eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers.— filed under Truth
of Me Again. The summer day is closed, the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west.— filed under Twilight
The victory of endurance born.— filed under Victory
Lay down the axe; fling by the spade; Leave in its track the toiling plough; The rifle and the bayonet-blade For arms like yours were fitter now; And let the hands that ply the pen Quit the light task, and learn to wield The horseman's crooked brand, and rein The charger on the battle-field.— filed under War
Other Poems. November. A breeze came wandering from the sky, Light as the whispers of a dream; He put the o'erhanging grasses by, And softly stooped to kiss the stream, The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctant stream.— filed under Wind
The faint old man shall lean his silver head To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And dry the moistened curls that overspread His temples, while his breathing grows more deep. น.— filed under Wind
Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find The perfumes thou dost bring?— filed under Wind
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from ca re, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.— filed under Wind
Ballads. Why Don't the Men Propose? Alas! to seize the moment When heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man come not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage, They cannot seek his hand.— filed under Wooing
Spanish of IGLESIAS. Woo the fair one when around Early birds are singing; When o'er all the fragrant ground Early herbs are springing: When the brookside, bank, and grove All with blossoms laden, Shine with beauty, breathe of love, Woo the timid maiden.— filed under Wooing
Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd and under roofs That our frail hands have raised?— filed under Worship