William Cullen Bryant

Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggarts and read more

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.

The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs read more

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.

Look! the massy trunks
Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray,
Nodding and tinkling in read more

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.