William Cullen Bryant ( 10 of 52 )
No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
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No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
Earth's silver rivers on the sacred morn.
The shad-bush, white with flowers,
Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut
And quivering poplar to the read more
The shad-bush, white with flowers,
Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut
And quivering poplar to the roving breeze
Gave a balsamic fragrance.
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.
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.
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.
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.
Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her read more
Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
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.
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer read more
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;
But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the first from the clear cold heaven, as falls the
plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and
glen.
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
