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

Bayard Taylor

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

Higher Perfect Song
To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Childhood Children Dream
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Daring Engagement Love
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

Excellence Hard Perseverance Work
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
Life lives only in success.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Life Live Success
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

Apollo Athlete Race
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Fire Ignorance Learning
Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Men Opportunity Wise
The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Half Repentance Sin
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Glee Ocean Swelling
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
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Pain Sea Wind
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Aim Perfection Unattainable

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

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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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