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But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!

Bayard Taylor

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

Aim Perfection Unattainable
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

Love Spring Summer
Love is better than Fame.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Better Fame Love
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Cannons Carry Pens
And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Deeds Prayer Virtuous
London has the advantage of one of the most gloomy atmospheres in the world.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Atmosphere Country World
Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Charm Verses Wooing
Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Earth Rain Sap
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
But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!
BAYARD TAYLOR

Moon Night Stars
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Ashes Death Green
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Fire Ignorance Learning
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Higher Perfect Song
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.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Blue Color Tree

But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!

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But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!

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Popular Authors

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