Bayard TaylorThinkers

Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.

Fame is what you have taken, Character’s what you give; When to this truth you waken. Then you begin to live.

The Kiss is sweetest not when stolen, but when granted.

May is a month whose soft rains fill the stalks of pansies with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.

Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.

The Pansy is a flower that, in soft April rains, fill their stalks with honeyed sap drawn from earth's prolific lap.

Protest is the dignity-conferring refusal to acknowledge society's refusal to acknowledge his dignity as a human being.