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Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!

Bayard Taylor

Love is better than Fame.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Better Fame Love
Who thinks, at night, that morn will ever be? Who knows, far out upon the central sea, That anywhere is land? And yet, a shore Has set behind us, and will rise before: A past foretells a future.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Hope Night Past
Departed suns their trails of splendor drew Across departed summers: whispers came From voices, long ago resolved again Into the primeval Silence, and we twain, Ghosts of our present selves, yet still the same, As in a spectral mirror wandered there.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Mirror Mirrors Self Summer Wander
Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Earth Rain Sap
The glories of the possible are ours.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Future Glory
The Poet’s leaves are gathered one by one, In the slow process of the doubtful years.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Poet Process Years
Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Heart Solitude
There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
BAYARD TAYLOR

Art Desire Success
As I toiled up the Mount of Olives, in the very footsteps of Christ, panting with the heat and the difficult ascent, I found it utterly impossible to conceive that the Deity, in human form, had walked there before me.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Ascent Olives
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy’s bonfire spread.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Bonfire Poppies Tides
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Ashes Death Green
An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Childhood Desire Long
But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Childhood Children Dream
We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
BAYARD TAYLOR

Ocean Running Space
Voluptuous bloom and fragrance rare The summer to its rose may bring; Far sweeter to the wooing air The hidden violet of spring. Still, still that lovely ghost appears, Too fair, too pure, to bid depart; No riper love of later years Can steal its beauty from the heart.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Love Spring Summer
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Annoying Fool Wells

Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!

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Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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