Bayard Taylor ( 10 of 10 )
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,
The poppy's bonfire spread.
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,
The poppy's bonfire spread.
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
But who will watch my lilies,
When their blossoms open white?
By day the sun shall be read more
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!
Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.
Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.
Shelved around us lie
The mummied authors.
Shelved around us lie
The mummied authors.
When May, with cowslip-braided locks,
Walks through the land in green attire.
And burns in meadow-grass the read more
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!
With rushing winds and gloomy skies
The dark and stubborn Winter dies:
Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,
read more
With rushing winds and gloomy skies
The dark and stubborn Winter dies:
Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,
Bidding her earliest child arise;
March!
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.
There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind read more
There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.
Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
read more
Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
That never wrongeth.
