
The poem is a nostalgic tribute to childhood memories of playing with a friend named Bryant. It describes the carefree days spent together, exploring and enjoying nature. The speaker reflects on how time has passed and their friend has grown up, but the memory of those happy times remains vivid.
By James Whitcomb Riley · First published 1883 · Genre: Poetry, Elegy, Lyric · 161 words
The harp has fallen from the master's hand; Mute is the music, voiceless are the strings, Save such faint discord as the wild wind flings In sad aeolian murmurs through the land.
The tide of melody, whose billows grand Flowed o'er the world in clearest utterings, Now, in receding current, sobs and sings That song we never wholly understand. * * O, eyes where glorious prophecies belong, And gracious reverence to humbly bow, And kingly spirit, proud, and pure, and strong; O, pallid minstrel with the laureled brow, And lips so long attuned to sacred song, How sweet must be the Heavenly anthem now!
Bryant is listed on Textopian as a poem by James Whitcomb Riley, dated 1883 CE.
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Poetry · American Literature · 19th Century · Free Verse · Nature Poetry · Rural Life · Childhood Memories · Nostalgia · Simple Language · Accessible Style · Imagery Rich · Symbolism