FastSaying

Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find The perfumes thou dost bring?

William Cullen Bryant

William Cullen Bryant

Wind

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A breeze came wandering from the sky, Light as the whispers of a dream; He put the o'erhanging grasses by, And softly stooped to kiss the stream, The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctant stream.
— William Cullen Bryant
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Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.
— William Cullen Bryant
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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.
— William Cullen Bryant
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The faint old man shall lean his silver head To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And dry the moistened curls that overspread His temples, while his breathing grows more deep.
— Bear Bryant
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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
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