Bayard Taylor

By Craven Langstroth Betts (1853–1941)

(Born Jan. 11, 1825)

HERE find the poet’s scrip,—his ready pen,

The staff of service on his pilgrim round,

Now laid aside; for he in sleep is bound,

No more to wander through the ways of men;

But these his furnishings, ingathered when

He traveled all Arcadia’s laurelled ground,

The cheer and nurture of his journey found,

He hath bequeathed them to the world again.

Herein note Love, his crust of daily bread,

Romance, his flask of wine, and Reverie sweet,

The rich-chased missal brought from Orient clime;

Here also Hope, his belt, and from his head

His scallop-shell of Fancy; from his feet

The rythmic sandals of his passion, Rhyme!