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I know I am–that simplest bliss The millions of my brothers miss. I know the fortune to be born, Even to the meanest wretch they scorn.

Bayard Taylor

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

Doors Experience House
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
Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Higher Perfect Song
Love is better than Fame.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Better Fame Love
Eccentricity is developed monomania.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Develop Eccentricity Monomania
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
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy’s bonfire spread.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Bonfire Poppies Tides
Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Jewelry Tangible Taste
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Daring Engagement Love
But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Childhood Children Dream
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Cannons Carry Pens
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Annoying Fool Wells
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
But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!
BAYARD TAYLOR

Moon Night Stars
And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Deeds Prayer Virtuous
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
BAYARD TAYLOR

Fire Ignorance Learning

I know I am–that simplest bliss The millions of my brothers miss. I know the fortune to be born, Even to the meanest wretch they scorn.

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I know I am–that simplest bliss The millions of my brothers miss. I know the fortune to be born, Even to the meanest wretch they scorn.

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Popular Authors

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