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Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.

Bayard Taylor

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
From the desert I come to thee, On a stallion shod with fire; And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Desire Fire Wind
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
It is an agreeable and yet a painful sense of novelty to stand for the first time in the midst of a people whose language and manners are different from one’s own.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Different Firsts People
The glories of the possible are ours.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Future Glory
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Know Labor Prayer
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

Dream Fate Sky
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

Bliss Brother Missing
The clouds are scudding across the moon, A misty light is on the sea; The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune, And the foam is flying free.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Clouds Light Moon
Love is better than Fame.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Better Fame Love
And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Deeds Prayer Virtuous
Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Charm Verses Wooing
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Higher Perfect Song
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

Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.

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Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.

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