William Cullen Bryant

I worship the quicksand he walks in.

I worship the quicksand he walks in.

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.

A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty.

A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty.

The linden, in the fervors of July,
Hums with a louder concert. When the wind
Sweeps the read more

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.

Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out,
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
Dost murmur, as read more

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,
And tell how little our large veins would bleed,
Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.