William Cullen Bryant

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.

When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, read more

When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multiple
OF golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.

Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew,
And colour's with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the read more

Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew,
And colour's with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.

Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
read more

Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd and under roofs
That our frail hands have raised?

Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,
Wearing a bright black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders and white read more

Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,
Wearing a bright black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders and white his crest.