Bayard Taylor

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.

Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
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Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
That never wrongeth.

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.

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.

The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.

The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.