black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

The Poet’s leaves are gathered one by one, In the slow process of the doubtful years.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Poet Process Years
Peace the offspring is of Power.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Offspring Peace
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

Childhood Desire Long
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Comfort Sea Voyages
Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Heart Solitude
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Annoying Fool Wells
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

Color Flame Rain Rocks Sprinkle
But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Childhood Children Dream
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Know Labor Prayer
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
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Glee Ocean Swelling
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
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

Blood Fire Heart
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy’s bonfire spread.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Bonfire Poppies Tides
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

Home Mountain Perfect

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!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Bayard Taylor Quotes