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The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.

Bayard Taylor

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

Heart Solitude
The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Beautiful Healing Stars
Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of ‘creature comforts,’ a sea-voyage would be delightful.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Comfort Sea Voyages
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Cannons Carry Pens
Peace the offspring is of Power.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Offspring Peace
In the glory which overhangs Palestine afar off, we imagine emotions which never come, when we tread the soil and walk over the hallowed sites.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Afar Emotion Soil
Life lives only in success.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Life Live Success
To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Observation People
Eccentricity is developed monomania.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Develop Eccentricity Monomania
The lamp you lighted in the olden time Will show you my heart’s-blood beating through the rhyme: A poet’s journal, writ in fire and tears… Then slow deliverance, with the gaps of years.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Poet Process Years
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
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Daring Engagement Love
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 knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Half Repentance Sin
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

The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.

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The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.

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Popular Authors

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