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Bayard Taylor Quotes
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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!
Bayard Taylor
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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.
Bayard Taylor
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Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few,
And soon the grassy coverlet of God
Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
Bayard Taylor
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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
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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
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Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
Bayard Taylor
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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
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Yes, let the Angel blow!
A peal from the parted heaven,
The first of seven!—
The warning, not yet the sign, of woe!
That men arise
And look about them with wakened eyes,
Behold on their garments the dust and slime,
Refrain, forbear,
Accept the weight of a nobler care
And take reproach from the fallen time!
Bayard Taylor
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The hollows are heavy and dank
With the steam of the Goldenrods.
Bayard Taylor
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Once let the Angel blow! —
A peal from the parted heaven,
The first of seven! For the time is come that was foretold
So long ago!
As the avalanche gathers, huge and cold,
From the down of the harmless snow,
The years and the ages gather and hang
Till the day when the word is spoken:
When they that dwell in the end of time
Are smitten alike for the early crime,
As the vials of wrath are broken!
Bayard Taylor
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All, wherein I have part,
All that was loss or gain, Slips from the clasping heart,
Breaks from the grasping brain. Lo, what is left? I am bare
As a new-born soul, — I am naught:
My deeds are dust in air,
My words are ghosts of thought.
I ride through the night alone,
Detached from the life that seemed,
And the best I have felt or known
Is less than the least I dreamed.
Bayard Taylor
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No visitors shall yonder valley find.
Except the spirits of the rain and wind:
Here you must bide, my friends, with me entombed
In this dim crypt, where shelved around us lie
The mummied authors.
Bayard Taylor
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They sang of love, and not of fame;
Forgot was Britain's glory;
Each heart recalled a different name,
But all sang Annie Lawrie.
Bayard Taylor
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Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars are old,
And the leaves of the Judgement Book unfold.
Bayard Taylor
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Thunder-spasms the waking be
Into Life from Apathy:
Life, not Death, is in the gale, —
Let the coming Doom prevail!
Bayard Taylor
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Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest
Your truth and valor wearing:
The bravest are the tenderest,—
The loving are the daring.
Bayard Taylor
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Knowledge alone is the being of Nature,
Giving a soul to her manifold features,
Lighting through paths of the primitive darkness,
The footsteps of Truth and the vision of Song.
Bayard Taylor
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I envy those old Greek bathers, into whose hands were delivered Pericles, and Alcibiades, and the perfect models of Phidias. They had daily before their eyes the highest types of Beauty which the world has ever produced; for of all things that are beautiful, the human body is the crown.
Bayard Taylor
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Ancient Pines, Ye bear no record of the years of man. Spring is your sole historian...
Bayard Taylor
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The Poet's leaves are gathered one by one,
In the slow process of the doubtful years.
Bayard Taylor
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But still I dream that somewhere there must be
The spirit of a child that waits for me.
Bayard Taylor
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If she but smile, the crystal calm shall break
In music, sweeter than it ever gave,
As when a breeze breathes o'er some sleeping lake,
And laughs in every wave.
Bayard Taylor
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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
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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!
Bayard Taylor
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We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
Bayard Taylor
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Quote of the day
Life is not having been told that the man has just waxed the floor.
Ogden Nash
Bayard Taylor
Creative Commons
Born:
January 11, 1825
Died:
December 19, 1878
(aged 53)
Bio:
Bayard Taylor was an American poet, literary critic, translator, travel author, and diplomat.
Known for:
Views a-foot (1846)
Eldorado (1850)
The story of Kennett (1866)
Poems of the Orient (1854)
Bayard Taylor on Wikipedia
Bayard Taylor works on Gutenberg Project
Bayard Taylor works on Wikisource
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