William Cullen Bryant

Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
read more

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.

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.

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief,
And the year smiles as it draws near its read more

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief,
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.

To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A read more

To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.