William Cullen Bryant 威廉 -卡伦 -布莱恩特( 1794-1878)

• Father of American poetry---The American Wordsworth

• As a Knickerbocker, known for his journalism and literary criticism

• One of the greatest translators: Iliad (伊利亚特 ) and Odyssey

• (奥德赛 )

• A lawyer by profession and a journalist of national importance by occupation

• Definer of the character and tone of American poetry—looking to nature and American landscape for evidence of the divine.

Odyssey

William Cullen Bryant: Father of American Poetry

William C. Bryant: A great nature poet

• Bryant as artist

• 1.Closely associated with American artists

• 2. President of the American Art Union

• 3. A vice president of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

• Bryant as journalist

• 1. Creator of a style of clarity and simplicity

• 2. Servant of the public

William Cullen Bryant

• Bryant as literary critic• 1. Leading American literature into the romantic revolt

against neoclassic restraints• 2. Favoring short poems• 3. Creatively imitating and borrowing from writers of

other countries and ages• Bryant as poet• 1. A great nature poet with moralizing stanzas• 2. Believing in nature therapy as a cure for the evils of

civilization• 3. Great spring of poetry coming from emotions

William Cullen Bryant

• His other contributions

• 1. Supporting free trade, free labor and free speech

• 2. Strongly against slavery

• 3. Supporting international copyright, paid fire department, police uniform, street cleaning machines, cheaper postage, and the central park

• 4. Introducing A. Lincoln at the Cooper Union speech

William Cullen Bryant: His life

• 1.Born to a country doctor and New England ancestry dating back to the Mayflower, second of seven children

• 2. Growing up in Massachusetts, and spending a year at Williams College, finding no intellectual challenges

• 3. Writing “ Thanatopsis” when 16, and having it published in The North America Review

• 4. Studying law and becoming a lawyer

• 5. Becoming rich as the editor-in-chief, the Evening Post ( working on the Post for 52 years)

ThanatopsisTo him who in the love of Nature holdsCommunion with her visible forms, she speaksA various language; for his gayer hoursShe has a voice of gladness, and a smileAnd eloquence of beauty, and she glidesInto his darker musings, with a mildAnd gentle sympathy, that steals awayTheir sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughtsOf the last bitter hour come like a blightOver thy spirit, and sad imagesOf the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;---Go forth, under the open sky, and listTo Nature’s teachings, while from all round---Earth and her waters, and the depth of air,---Comes a still voice---Yet a few days, and theeThe all-beholding sun shall see no moreIn all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,

A group of water birds at dusk: Beautiful and confident

A waterfowl flying high in thecold and thin air, guided by aninvisible force, which may teachus a lesson about life

     To a Waterfowl

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?

     Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,    Thy figure floats along.

     Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink      On the chafed ocean-side?

    

There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast— The desert and illimitable air—     Lone wandering, but not lost.

    All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,     Though the dark night is near.

    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.

    

Thou 'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,    And shall not soon depart.

He, who, from zone to zone, Guided through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.

Seek'st thou the plashy brinkOf weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

Or where the rocking billows rise and sink      On the chafed ocean-side?

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast— The desert and illimitable air—

Thou 'rt gone, the abyss of heaven / Hath swallowed up thy form

An embodiment of the spiritual encouragement