I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
BAYARD TAYLORLove is better than Fame.
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
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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.
BAYARD TAYLOR -
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.
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Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!
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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.
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Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.
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Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
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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.
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And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy’s bonfire spread.
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To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
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Departed suns their trails of splendor drew Across departed summers: whispers came From voices, long ago resolved again Into the primeval Silence, and we twain, Ghosts of our present selves, yet still the same, As in a spectral mirror wandered there.
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Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of ‘creature comforts,’ a sea-voyage would be delightful.
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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.
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The hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods.
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Labor, you know, is prayer.
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As I toiled up the Mount of Olives, in the very footsteps of Christ, panting with the heat and the difficult ascent, I found it utterly impossible to conceive that the Deity, in human form, had walked there before me.
BAYARD TAYLOR