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

Bayard Taylor

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

Earth Rain Sap
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 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
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Aim Perfection Unattainable
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 stream from Wisdom’s well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Streams Wells Wisdom
By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Rich Wealth Wisdom
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
And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Deeds Prayer Virtuous
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Annoying Fool Wells
Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Poet Process Years
Labor, you know, is prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Know Labor Prayer
Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!
BAYARD TAYLOR

Baltimore Cities Two
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
I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Love Old Shall You
Peace the offspring is of Power.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Offspring Peace
Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Jewelry Tangible Taste
London has the advantage of one of the most gloomy atmospheres in the world.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Atmosphere Country World
Life lives only in success.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Life Live Success
To Truth’s house there is a single door, which is experience.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Doors Experience House
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Glee Ocean Swelling
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 TAYLOR

Hope Night Past
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
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
The nearest approach I have ever seen to the symmetry of ancient sculpture was among the Arab tribes of Ethiopia. Our Saxon race can supply the athlete, but not the Apollo.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Apollo Athlete Race

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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