William Cullen Bryant (November 3, 1794 – June 12, 1878) was an American romantic poet, journalist, and long-time editor of the New York Evening Post.
Read more about William Cullen Bryant: Youth and Education, Poetry, Editorial Career, Later Years, Critical Response, Legacy, Further Reading
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“All that tread,
The globe are but a handful to the tribes,
That slumber in its bosom.”
—William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878)
“Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again;
Th’ eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes in pain,
And dies among his worshippers.”
—William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878)
“Of course you will pooh-pooh whatever’s fresh and new, and declare
it’s crude and mean;”
—Sir William Schwenck Gilbert (1836–1911)
“In sorrow by thy bier we stand,
Amid the awe that hushes all,
And speak the anguish of a land
That shook with horror at thy fall.”
—William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878)
“To him who, in the love of Nature, holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language: for his gayer hours”
—William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878)