William Cullen Bryant

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but read more

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man.

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.

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.

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
read more

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.
If man come not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage,
They cannot seek his hand.