The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath Keep.

Beautiful Isles! Beneath The Sunset Skies Tall, Silver-shafted Palm-trees Rise, Between Full Orange-trees That Shade The Living Colonade.

[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.

Truth Crushed To The Earth Will Rise Again!

The February Sunshine Steeps Your Boughs And Tints The Buds And Swells The Leaves Within.

Thine Eyes Are Springs In Whose Serene And Silent Waters Heaven Is Seen. Their Lashes Are The Herbs That Look On Their Young Figures In The Brook.