He did not cater to popular taste, but aimed to form that taste. Bryant not only read by Ann Radcliffe, but many of the famous. Examples: 1 Give me wine, give me women and give me song. His natural habit of seclusion was fostered by the presence and influence, in the family, of his mother's father, Ebenezer Snell, an aweinspiring patriarch, who frowned on all frivolity in the children. If you have a copy handy, we suggest keeping it near while you read our analysis. Since his own father was a physician, his ambition was to have a son who should be a physician also, and with that hope he named his second son William Cullen, after the then celebrated physician of Edinburgh.
That influence covered a period of fifty-six years. Rather than damnation or sainthood, there is the infallible grace of community with all. To the end of his days Bryant recognized his indebtedness to his father. In fact, once the reader gets halfway through the poem they discover that Bryant uses these words almost interchangeably. In all this we see the abiding influence of the poet's New England training, and the happy effect of those theological sermons to which he listened in his youth. And, wondering what detains my feet From that bright land of rest, Dost seem, in every sound, to hear The rustling of my footsteps near. It is well that our line of poets begins with one so high, severe, and pure.
We may possibly explain this by remembering that The Pilgrim bands, who passed the sea to keep Their Sabbaths in the eye of God alone, In his wide temple of the wilderness 1 were Puritans of the most straitest sect, many of whom thought love for nature a dangerous rival to love for God. But he could not be hid. The sixth stanza promises rest and a new home. For some of us, it might not be quite enough to provide us with comfort when thoughts of death come knocking on our door. A kindly figure enters, A man of middle age, And points to a line just written, And 'tis blotted from the page. The boy was evidently well endowed in body. Wilkinson, has compared Bryant's lack of tropical fervor to the statuesque repose of Greek art, and to the calm dignity of George Washington.
A question can be asked at this point, if our individual form ceases to exist, do we cease to exist? I know the sweet calm features; The peerless smile I know; And I stretch my arms with transport From where I stand below. I have taken interest in the story of Bryant's life and work, in large part because the religious and theological aspects of it have seemed to me to have been hitherto neglected. The main metaphor of the poem is presented in the eighth stanza, where the parallel between the bird's flight and the narrator's life is presented. He writes: Europe is given a prey to sterner fates And writhes in shackles. It is this combination of beauty and truth, of insight into nature's meanings and simplicity in the expression of them, that has made Bryant the teacher and corypheus of our American poets. A mind so vigorous and honest as Bryant's could not help expressing itself in forms of speech; and though he was shy of utterance with regard to the deepest things of the soul, his poetic nature could not be satisfied without putting into verse that which to him was most fundamental. William Cullen Bryant was a Christian.
In the seventh stanza, the meter falls apart almost completely, mimicking the loss of bodily form. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: In the cold, moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. Over against God's creatorship and omnipresence, Bryant recognizes the sinfulness of humanity: When, from the genial cradle of our race, Went forth the tribes of men. And one there is among them, With a star upon her brow, In her life a lovely woman, A sinless seraph now. It is even more remarkable that the poetical writing of after years still dealt with this as its central theme.
The external world is beautiful, because unfallen. And prayer for the regions of our own land that need the gospel: Look from the sphere of endless day, Oh, God of mercy and of might! As opposed to asking for faith, deism asks us merely to use our senses and reason, which will lead us to an understanding of God and his ways. This his father's means did not permit. Bryant dealt with principles rather than with persons. So we do not find in him the vast vocabulary and deep acquaintance with human passion that are so marked in Shakespeare, nor even Chaucer's gaiety and breadth of sympathy.
The third and seventh stanzas talk about the Baptism and the Ascension of Christ, which we associate with receiving the Holy Spirit and Christ promise to send the Holy Spirit to comfort us after he went to Heaven. He became disgusted with the technicality and chicanery which often accompanied its practice. The love that lived through all the stormy past, And meekly with my harsher nature bore, And deeper grew, and tenderer to the last, Shall it expire with life, and be no more? You like sure things, Shmoopers? And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. When these images are taken in with the images of time and age given above, they give the earth an image of something very old and vast. Yet, mighty God, yet shall thy frown look forth Unveiled, and terribly shall shake the earth.
Moses Hallock, of Plainfield, and in two months he had read through the whole Greek Testament. And greater wonders men shall view Than that of Cana's bridal day. You could say that he was kind of a Renaissance man, and a wildly popular one at that. In addition, most of the vowel and consonant sounds are soft, and many of the syllables are open. But he took no office cares with him. So it is a vast tomb. Autoplay next video Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? We seldom read of the Cross, in Bryant's poetry.