Yet will that beauteous image makeThe dreary sea less drearAnd thy remembered smile will wakeThe hope that tramples fear.
"William Cullen Bryant" was an American romantic poetry/romantic poet, journalist, and long-time editor of the New York Evening Post.
More William Cullen Bryant on Wikipedia.I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
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.
The sounds I had heard seemed worthy to mingle with this bright and perfumed atmosphere, and to thrill the beautiful scenery around me.
All at onceA fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream,And I am in the wilderness alone.
The praise of those who sleep in earth,The pleasant memory of their worth,The hope to meet when life is past,Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
The stormy March has come at last,With wind, and cloud, and changing skies;I hear the rushing of the blast,That through the snowy valley flies.
And wrath has left its scar -- that fire of hellHas left its frightful scar upon my soul.
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,And colored with the heaven's own blue. . . .
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