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The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.

Bayard Taylor

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

Poet Process Years
An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Childhood Desire Long
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
Love is better than Fame.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Better Fame Love
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Ashes Death Green
Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Charm Verses Wooing
Peace the offspring is of Power.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Offspring Peace
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.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Mirror Mirrors Self Summer Wander
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy’s bonfire spread.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Bonfire Poppies Tides
To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Observation People
The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Half Repentance Sin
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

Children Dark Spring
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Cannons Carry Pens
Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Jewelry Tangible Taste
Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the past, and its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irresistible force.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Mind Mountain Past

The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.

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The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.

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