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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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Bayard Taylor
Age: 53 †
Born: 1825
Born: January 11
Died: 1878
Died: December 19
Critic
Diplomat
Explorer
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
Space
Chase
Running
Shifting
Begun
Hath
Ocean
Follow
Beheld
Shall
Behold
Race
Boundless
More quotes by Bayard Taylor
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.
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By wisdom wealth is won but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
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Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
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Love's humility is love's true pride.
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There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
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Sweeter than the stolen kiss Are the granted kisses
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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.
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The Prophet's words were true The mouth of Ali is the golden door Of Wisdom. When his friends to Ali bore These words, he smiled and said: And should they ask The same until my dying day, the task Were easy for the stream from Wisdom's well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
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Departed suns their trails of splendor drew Across departed summers: whispers came From voices, long ago resolved again Into the primeval Silence, and we twain, Ghosts of our present selves, yet still the same, As in a spectral mirror wandered there.
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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.
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I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
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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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Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
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Eccentricity is developed monomania.
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Fame is what you have taken, / Character's what you give / When to this truth you waken, / Then you begin to live.
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The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
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Labor, you know, is prayer.
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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.
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He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
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The clouds are scudding across the moon, A misty light is on the sea The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune, And the foam is flying free.
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