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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More quotes by Bayard Taylor
Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest
Your truth and valor wearing:
The bravest are the tenderest,—
The loving are the daring.
The Song of the Camp (1856)
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.
Kilimandjaro (1852)
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.
The Return of the Goddess (1850)
And yonder fly his scattered golden arrows,
And smite the hills with day.
The Poet's Journal (1863)
Thunder-spasms the waking be
Into Life from Apathy:
Life, not Death, is in the gale, —
Let the coming Doom prevail!
The Poet's Journal (1863)
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