Do Not The Bright June Roses Blow

[thanatopsis] Was Written In 1817, When Bryant Was 23. Had He Died Then, The World Would Have Thought It Had Lost A Great Poet. But He Lived On.

Gently - So Have Good Men Taught - Gently, And Without Grief, The Old Shall Glide Into The New; The Eternal Flow Of Things, Like A Bright River Of The Fields Of Heaven, Shall Journey Onward In Perpetual Peace.

Go Forth Under The Open Sky, And List To Nature's Teachings.

Difficulty Is The Nurse Of Greatness.

It Is A Sultry Day; The Sun Has Drunk The Dew That Lay Upon The Morning Grass; There Is No Rustling In The Lofty Elm That Canopies My Dwelling, And Its Shade Scarce Cools Me. All Is Silent, Save The Faint And Interrupted Murmur Of The Bee, Settling On The Sick Flowers, And Then Again Instantly On The Wing.