black
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But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

Bayard Taylor

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 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
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
Sweeter than the stolen kiss Are the granted kisses
BAYARD TAYLOR

Granted Kissing Stolen
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Aim Perfection Unattainable
The hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Dank heavy Steam
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

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

Poet Process Years
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

Ascent Olives
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 most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Annoying Fool Wells
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
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
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
Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Glee Ocean Swelling

But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

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But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.

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