Bayard Taylor
Bayard Taylor
Bayard Taylorwas an American poet, literary critic, translator, travel author, and diplomat...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth11 January 1825
CityKennett Square, PA
CountryUnited States of America
afar soil emotion
In the glory which overhangs Palestine afar off, we imagine emotions which never come, when we tread the soil and walk over the hallowed sites.
first-love daring
The loving are the daring.
humility pride true-humility
Love's humility is love's true pride.
perseverance hard-work excellence
Those who would attain to any marked degree of excellence in a chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, prince or peasant.
daring
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
wise men opportunity
Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
beautiful stars healing
The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
land purple fire
When May, with cowslip-braided locks, Walks through the land in green attire. And burns in meadow-grass the phlox His torch of purple fire: And when the punctual May arrives, With cowslip-garland on her brow, We know what once she gave our lives, And cannot give us now!
wind fire desire
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.
taken character giving
Fame is what you have taken, / Character's what you give; / When to this truth you waken, / Then you begin to live.
hope past night
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...
love summer spring
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.
heart blood years
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...
tides poppies bonfire
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy's bonfire spread.