Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
BAYARD TAYLOR
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Labor, you know, is prayer.
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
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Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
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Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
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The hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods.
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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.
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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.
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We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
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And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.
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Love’s humility is love’s true pride.
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Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
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With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!
BAYARD TAYLOR