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
country eye blue
I was pleasantly disappointed on entering Bohemia. Instead of a dull, uninteresting country, as I expected, it is a land full of the most lovely scenery. There is every thing which can gratify the eye - high blue mountains, valleys of the sweetest pastoral look and romantic old ruins.
people different firsts
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.
war hands mountain
Oh! what waves of crime and bloodshed have swept like the waves of a deluge down the valley of the Rhine! War has laid his mailed hand on those desolate towers and ruthlessly torn down what time has spared, yet he could not mar the beauty of the shore, nor could Time himself hurl down the mountains that guard it.
jerusalem emotion assuming
I cannot assume emotions I do not feel, and must describe Jerusalem as I found it. Since being here, I have read the accounts of several travellers, and in many cases the devotional rhapsodies - the ecstacies of awe and reverence - in which they indulge, strike me as forced and affected.
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.