Quote #12
And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
More from William Cullen Bryant
- Weep not that the world changes-did it keep A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
- Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured …
- Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase Are fruits of innocence and blessedness.
- Thou unrelenting Past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, And fetters, sure and fast, Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.
- They talk of short-lived pleasures-be it so- pain dies as quickly: stern, hard-featured pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The f…
- The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
- 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 f…
- The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.