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 TAYLORBut still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
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Although Damascus is considered the oldest city in the world, the date of its foundation going beyond tradition, there are very few relics of antiquity in or near it.
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Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
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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.
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We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
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I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
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It is an agreeable and yet a painful sense of novelty to stand for the first time in the midst of a people whose language and manners are different from one’s own.
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The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
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Wrapped in his sad-colored cloak, the Day, like a Puritan, standeth Stern in the joyless fields, rebuking the lingering color,– Dying hectic of leaves and the chilly blue of the asters,– Hearing, perchance, the croak of a crow on the desolate tree-top.
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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.
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There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
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Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
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Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.
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The maxims tell you to aim at perfection, which is well; but it’s unattainable, all the same.
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Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the past, and its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irresistible force.
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Those who would attain to any marked degree of excellence in a chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, prince or peasant.
BAYARD TAYLOR