black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

Bayard Taylor

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
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Glee Ocean Swelling
Sometimes an hour of Fate’s serenest weather Strikes through our changeful sky its coming beams; Somewhere above us, in elusive ether, Waits the fulfilment of our dearest dreams.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Dream Fate Sky
So far as female beauty is concerned, the Circassian women have no superiors. They have preserved in their mountain home the purity of the Grecian models, and still display the perfect physical loveliness, whose type has descended to us in the Venus de Medici.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Home Mountain Perfect
By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Rich Wealth Wisdom
I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Love Old Shall You
Eccentricity is developed monomania.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Develop Eccentricity Monomania
I know I am–that simplest bliss The millions of my brothers miss. I know the fortune to be born, Even to the meanest wretch they scorn.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Bliss Brother Missing
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
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
Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Jewelry Tangible Taste
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Courage Daring Engagement
The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocks A scarlet rain; the yellow violet Sat in the chariot of its leaves, the phlox Held spikes of purple flame in meadows wet, And all the streams with vernal-scented reed Were fringed, and streaky bellow of miskodeed.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Color Flame Rain Rocks Sprinkle
He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Experience Heart Men
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Know Labor Prayer
The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Half Repentance Sin

But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

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But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

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