“The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel
To clasp the boughs above.”

— William Cullen Bryant

The Serenade http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16341/16341-h/16341-h.htm#page189, St. 14

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love; The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above." by William Cullen Bryant?

William Cullen Bryant 41

American romantic poet and journalist 1794–1878

Related quotes

“Give me a land of boughs in leaf
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.”

A.E. Housman (1859–1936) English classical scholar and poet

“But to reach…the pinnacle of power, it will be necessary, to climb rugged heights.”

Jose Cecilio del Valle (1777–1996) Honduran politician-

1821

“The bud is on the bough again,
The leaf is on the tree.”

Charles Jefferys (1807–1865) British music publisher

The Meeting of Spring and Summer, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

“Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough.”

A.E. Housman book A Shropshire Lad

No. 2, st. 1.
A Shropshire Lad (1896)

“Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes.
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns.”

Dylan Thomas Fern Hill

St. 1
Fern Hill (1946)

“And I watch my words from a long way off.
They are more yours than mine.
They climb on my old suffering like ivy.”

Pablo Neruda book Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

Source: Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

“One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow”

Wallace Stevens book Harmonium

"The Snow Man"
Harmonium (1923)
Context: p>One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitterOf the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare placeFor the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.</p