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 TAYLORReally,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
-
-
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 -
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.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
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 -
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
The glories of the possible are ours.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
Peace the offspring is of Power.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
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 -
I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
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 -
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






