As familiar as I am with Bryant Park, I never once gave thought to who it was named in honor of. William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) was a poet, journalist, and an editor for the New York Evening Post. From what I have read, he was a man of many varied interests, and maintained an eclectic group of friends. His most lasting legacy may be his role in supporting the creation of Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum Of Art.
His country estate known as Cedarmere, overlooks a narrow stretch of Hempstead Harbor in Roslyn. The house serves as a museum, which has limited hours during the winter months, but the grounds are accessible year round. There are 7 acres that consist of lawns, footpaths, and a pond.
When not writing about political and civic issues, Bryant was known for his poetry that used nature as a metaphor. It does not take much stretch-of-the-imagination to think many of his words may have been written right here.
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead
They rustle to the eddying gust,and to the rabbits tread;
The robin and the wren are flown,and from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
The Death Of The Flowers
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