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William C. Bryant

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“The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.”

MenFirstsSoundSilenceDown AndLaysSpreadWoodsThanksTemplesRoofSolemnLoftyFramedAnthemGroveVaultsSupplication
Author:William C. Bryant
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“The right to discuss freely and openly, by speech, by the pen, by the press, all political questions, and to examine the animadvert upon all political institutions is a right so clear and certain, so interwoven with our other liberties, so necessary, in fact, to their existence, that without it we must fall into despotism and anarchy.”

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Author:William C. Bryant
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“Much has seen said of the wisdom of old age. Old age is wise, I grant, for itself, but not wise for the community. It is wise in declining new enterprises, for it has not the power nor the time to execute them; wise in shrinking from difficulty, for it has not the strength to overcome it; wise in avoiding danger, for it lacks the faculty of ready and swift action, by which dangers are parried and converted into advantages. But this is not wisdom for mankind at large, by whom new enterprises must be undertaken, dangers met, and difficulties surmounted.”

SaidAgeActionCommunityWiseMankindDangerReadyMetsAdvantageOvercomingDifficultyOld AgeEnterpriseFacultyGrantsAvoidingShrinking
Author:William C. Bryant
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“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.”

MenFirstsLongFallHeavenGoneClearColdSummerDiedRoseWoodsGoldenHillsAutumnYellowLong AgoVioletPlagueBrooksBrightnessSunflowerAsters
Author:William C. Bryant
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“The press, important as is its office, is but the servant of the human intellect, and its ministry is for good or for evil, according to the character of those who direct it. The press is a mill which grinds all that is put into its hopper. Fill the hopper with poisoned grain, and it will grind it to meal, but there is death in the bread.”

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Author:William C. Bryant
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“A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile, Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade. Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws, No more sits listening by his den, but steals Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field, And crops its juicy-blossoms.”

LeftHoursSleepSilenceDoorsDogFieldsListeningStonesSafetyStealingGrayShadeBitesReignCropsDwellingSteersSabbathLaborersPawsDensJuicyClovers
Author:William C. Bryant
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“Oh, Constellations of the early night That sparkled brighter as the twilight died, And made the darkness glorious! I have seen Your rays grow dim upon the horizon's edge And sink behind the mountains. I have seen The great Orion, with his jewelled belt, That large-limbed warrior of the skies, go down Into the gloom. Beside him sank a crowd Of shining ones.”

MadeNightStarsGrowsBehindsDarknessSkyMountainDiedShiningEdgesCrowdsWarriorGloriousHorizonRaysTwilightBeltsBrighterGloomConstellationsOrion
Author:William C. Bryant
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