William Cullen Bryant

The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown read more

The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on read more

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.

The daffodil is our doorside queen;
She pushes upward the sword already,
To spot with sunshine the read more

The daffodil is our doorside queen;
She pushes upward the sword already,
To spot with sunshine the early green.

Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.

Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.

Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?

Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?