Maxioms by William Cullen Bryant
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.
And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
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.
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?
