William Cullen Bryant

(November 3, 1794 – June 12, 1878 / Boston)

William Cullen Bryant Poems

1. When The Firmament Quivers With Daylight's Young Beam 4/5/2010
2. Catterskill Falls 4/5/2010
3. I Cannot Forget With What Fervid Devotion 4/5/2010
4. In Memory Of John Lothrop Motley 4/5/2010
5. Mary Magdalen 4/5/2010
6. The Knight's Epitaph 4/5/2010
7. The Maiden's Sorrow 4/5/2010
8. The Massacre At Scio 4/5/2010
9. The Old Man's Counsel 4/5/2010
10. The Past 4/5/2010
11. The Return Of Youth 4/5/2010
12. The Serenade 4/5/2010
13. The Twenty-Second Of December 4/5/2010
14. The Two Graves 4/5/2010
15. To The Apennines 4/5/2010
16. To The River Arve 4/5/2010
17. Version Of A Fragment Of Simonides 4/5/2010
18. Robert Of Lincoln -new- 5/21/2015
19. Song From The Spanish Of Iglesias 4/5/2010
20. Song Of The Greek Amazon 4/5/2010
21. The Arctic Lover 4/5/2010
22. Noon 4/5/2010
23. Hymn Of The Waldenses 4/5/2010
24. Life Of The Blessed 4/5/2010
25. Lines On Revisiting The Country 4/5/2010
26. No Man Knoweth His Sepulchre 4/5/2010
27. The West Wind 1/3/2003
28. West Wind, The 12/31/2002
29. Upon The Mountain's Distant Head 4/5/2010
30. Romero 4/5/2010
31. From: An Evening Revery 4/5/2010
32. A Meditation On Rhode-Island Coal 4/5/2010
33. The Antiquity Of Freedom 4/5/2010
34. The Child's Funeral 4/5/2010
35. The Conqueror’s Grave 4/5/2010
36. The Damsel Of Peru 4/5/2010
37. The Death Of Aliatar 4/5/2010
38. The Death Of Schiller 4/5/2010
39. The Evening Wind 4/5/2010
40. The Greek Boy 4/5/2010
Best Poem of William Cullen Bryant

Thanatopsis

To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty; and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the ...

Read the full of Thanatopsis

The Strange Lady

The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by,
As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool dear sky;
Young Albert, in the forest's edge, has heard a rustling sound
An arrow slightly strikes his hand and falls upon the ground.

A lovely woman from the wood comes suddenly in sight;
Her merry eye is full and black, her cheek is brown and bright;
She wears a tunic of the blue, her belt with beads is strung,
And yet she speaks in gentle tones, and in the

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