black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

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

Beautiful Flower Scotland
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Know Labor Prayer
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Pain Sea Wind
Love’s humility is love’s true pride.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Humility Love Pride True
The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Beautiful Healing Stars
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Daring Engagement Love
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
London has the advantage of one of the most gloomy atmospheres in the world.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Atmosphere Country World
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Fire Ignorance Learning
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
To Truth’s house there is a single door, which is experience.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Doors Experience House
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
The stream from Wisdom’s well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Streams Wells Wisdom
Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Higher Perfect Song
Fame is what you have taken, / Character’s what you give; / When to this truth you waken, / Then you begin to live.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Character Giving Taken

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

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

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Popular Authors

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