Friday, March 29, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

William Cullen Bryant

« All quotes from this author
 

The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel
To clasp the boughs above.
--
The Serenade, St. 14.

 
William Cullen Bryant

» William Cullen Bryant - all quotes »



Tags: William Cullen Bryant Quotes, Authors starting by B


Similar quotes

 

He seem'd as lithe and free and tall
And restless as the boughs that stir
Perpetual topt poplar trees.
And one, that one, had eyes to teach
The art of love, and tongue to preach
Life's hard and sober homilies;
And yet his eager hands, his speech,
All spoke the bold adventurer;
While zoned about the belt of each
There swung a girt of steel, till all
Did seem a walking arsenal.

 
Joaquin Miller
 

Growing up in such a stunning landscape is inevitably going to have an effect on you, whether you rebel or whether you embrace, because it's so striking. I lived on this rugged, rugged coastline with the North Sea hammering at the cliffs, and the weather changes literally every half hour. My parents met as rock climbers, so they're absolute outdoors fiends, and we were constantly up hills and under canvas and camping and tramping around. They're very fond memories and something I still love to do.

 
KT Tunstall
 

In the distance huge trees were still blazing, around us was a waste of ashes and of half-consumed boughs, and the falling rain seemed only to quicken the dying conflagration. In some of the great green boles were fearful gaping wounds through which the sap was oozing, while some tall trees still stretched to heaven their triumphant crown of foliage above a trunk all charred that would never sprout again. The Brazilians contemplate spectacles such as this with a wholly indifferent eye, and, indeed, even with satisfaction, for they see in the ruin only a promise of future harvests. To me the scene possessed only the horror of a slaughter-house.

 
Georges Clemenceau
 

Rugged! Rugged as Parnassus!
Rude, as all roads I have trod —
Yet are steeps and stone-strown passes
Smooth o'er head, and nearest God.

 
Joaquin Miller
 

Knowst thou the land where the lemon trees bloom,
Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom,
Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows,
And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose?

 
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
© 2009–2013Quotes Privacy Policy | Contact