William Cullen Bryant Quotes

William Cullen Bryant was one of the most renowned American poets, journalist and editor of the 19th century. A student of nature, his poetry reflects his love for the outdoors, the rural life and his deep appreciation for the beauty of life, as well as powerful political poems about social injustice. Here are some of the best quotes from William Cullen Bryant to make you think, feel and see the world in a different light.

  • The quiet August noon has come; A slumberous silence fills the sky; The winds are still, the trees are dumb, In glassy sleep the waters lie.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The little windflower, whose just opened eye is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Remorse is virtue’s root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The groves were God’s first temples.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • I think I shall return to America even a better patriot than when I left it. A citizen of the United States, travelling on the continent of Europe, finds the contrast between a government of power and a government of opinion forced upon him at every step.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The birch-bark canoe of the savage seems to me one of the most beautiful and perfect things of the kind constructed by human art.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • A herd of prairie-wolves will enter a field of melons and quarrel about the division of the spoils as fiercely and noisily as so many politicians.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The Parisian has his amusements as regularly as his meals, the theatre, music, the dance, a walk in the Tuilleries, a refection in the cafe, to which ladies resort as commonly as the other sex. Perpetual business, perpetual labor, is a thing of which he seems to have no idea.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep tonight.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • A beautiful city is Richmond, seated on the hills that overlook the James River. The dwellings have a pleasant appearance, often standing by themselves in the midst of gardens. In front of several, I saw large magnolias, their dark, glazed leaves glittering in the March sunshine.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Weep not that the world changes – did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness – a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster – children into strength and athletic proportion.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Nothing can be more striking to one who is accustomed to the little inclosures called public parks in our American cities, than the spacious, open grounds of London. I doubt, in fact, whether any person fully comprehends their extent, from any of the ordinary descriptions of them, until he has seen them or tried to walk over them.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • A stable, changeless state, ’twere cause indeed to weep.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature’s teachings.

    William Cullen Bryant
  • Eloquence is the poetry of prose.

    William Cullen Bryant

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