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1. black
2. grey
3. blue
4. red
5. brown
6. white

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

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More Bayard Taylor Quotes

• 

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

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  BonfirePoppiesTides
• 

  Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  CharmVersesWooing
• 

  Melrose is the finest remaining specimen of Gothic architecture in Scotland. Some of the sculptured flowers in the cloister arches are remarkably beautiful and delicate, and the two windows – the south and east oriels – are of a lightness and grace of execution really surprising.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  BeautifulFlowerScotland
• 

  The loving are the daring.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  DaringEngagementLove
• 

  The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  CourageDaringEngagement
• 

  The clouds are scudding across the moon, A misty light is on the sea; The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune, And the foam is flying free.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  CloudsLightMoon
• 

  Love’s humility is love’s true pride.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  HumilityLovePrideTrue
• 

  He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  ExperienceHeartMen
• 

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

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  ComfortSeaVoyages
• 

  And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  PainSeaWind
• 

  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
  AfarEmotionSoil
• 

  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
  BloodFireHeart
• 

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

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  ChildhoodChildrenDream
• 

  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.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  DifferentFirstsPeople
• 

  The stream from Wisdom’s well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  StreamsWellsWisdom
• 

  To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  ObservationPeople
• 

  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
  ExcellenceHardPerseveranceWork
• 

  Labor, you know, is prayer.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  KnowLaborPrayer
• 

  Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  FireIgnoranceLearning
• 

  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
  ChildhoodDesireLong
• 

  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
  LoveSpringSummer
• 

  The nearest approach I have ever seen to the symmetry of ancient sculpture was among the Arab tribes of Ethiopia. Our Saxon race can supply the athlete, but not the Apollo.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  ApolloAthleteRace
• 

  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
  ColorFlameRainRocksSprinkle
• 

  The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  HalfRepentanceSin
• 

  The maxims tell you to aim at perfection, which is well; but it’s unattainable, all the same.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  AimPerfectionUnattainable
• 

  Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.

  BAYARD TAYLOR
  HigherPerfectSong
• 

  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
  HopeNightPast