Winter notes that Poe "was the first authoritative voice to recognize the excellence of Bayard Taylor; hailing him, 1849, as 'unquestionably the most terse, glowing, and vigorous of all our poets'" (296).
Winter discusses Taylor's senses of humor and fun, stating that "a sense of humor was one of Taylor's most propitious and most charming attributes, and with him, as with all other persons who possess that blessing, it served as a shield against petty troubles and as a cordial stimulant to philosophical views of fun. He was like a boy, also, in his love of fun" (160). To demonstrate Taylor's sense of humor, Winter recounts Taylor's account of an experience he had at Rev. Horace Mann's house and also cites Taylor's "Echo Club," "first published serially and afterward (1876) in a book" as a "conspicuous product of Taylor's playful humor." "Echo Club" contains several imitations, or parodies, of the styles of Taylor's contemporaries in verse. Winter reprints a letter Taylor wrote him on the subject of the book dated October 8, 1872, from Goatha. In this letter Taylor thanks Winter for sending him copies of the New York papers and mentions that he hopes Winter does not mind that Taylor parodied his writing: "All the papers were welcome, I assure you, and even the sight of your unforgeable MS. was refreshing to mine eyes. Moreover here was evidence that you have already forgiven me for my abominable effort at imitating some of your best poems, making comic the very qualities in them which I most enjoy. I may congratulate myself, I think, on having finished the series of travesties without having (so far as I know) giving lasting offense to any of the victims. Yet, stay!--I almost doubt of being pardoned by Mrs. Howe. It was a perilous undertaking, just at present, and I might easily have worse luck." In this letter, Taylor also discusses his European travels and asks after Winter and other New York friends. In this same letter, Taylor confesses to Winter that both he and his wife have had "a strange fancy" that something has happened to one of the Stoddards and hopes that he is wrong in his feeling. Taylor also asks after Stedman and encloses a separate letter for him in the care of Winter. Taylor also speaks of his return and asks Winter to write him with "all the gossip, literary and otherwise" (161-164).
Of the "travesties" in "Echo Club," Winter writes that several "are notably felicitous, and all of them are amusing." Winter also notes that Taylor held back a parody of Longfellow, fearing he would offend the poet. Winter reprints the first stanza of Taylor's parody on "The Psalm of Life" here:
"O'er the fragile rampart leaning, Which enclosed the herd of swine, Thoughts of vast and wondrous meaning
Flitted through this brain of mine." The poem continues with a discussion of how pigs jockey for places at the trough, pushing the smaller ones aside; the poem uses this as a metaphor for human conduct (164-165).
Winter reprints Appollo's section of Taylor's "The Masque of the Gods," from his own, personally inscribed copy from Taylor, signed "To William Winter, from his old friend Bayard Taylor. New York, May 30, 1872." Winter feels this is "Taylor's finest poem, in sublimity of theme, grandeur of conception, and spontenaiety of rhythmical eloquence" (165). Winter also reprints a letter from Taylor that discusses the poem. Taylor confirms Winter's opinion that the poem "is certainly the best thing I've yet done," and how he feels that he is really honing his poetic skill. Taylor also discusses his poetic feelings and his thoughts on how one develops into a poet. Taylor also remarks to Winter that he is happy, despite the fact that he knows the publication sales for the poem have not been particularly good; he feels his craft has improved. Taylor also discusses having to do "a certain amount of technical hack work, in order to buy the rest of my time for myself" and his plans to fully use his spare time to do his own work (166-167).
In 1876, Taylor was asked to participate in the centennial celebration of The Declaration of Independence, in Philadelphia on the Fourth of July, as "the poet of that national occasion." According to Winter, "he appreciated the honor and accepted the duty." Taylor also promised the Society of the Army of the Potomic that he would be present at their June reunion and deliver a poem in Philadelphia. Winter notes that during this time, he and Taylor lived almost across the street from each other, on East Eighteenth Street, in New York, and worked together at "The New York Tribune," so they met often and exchanged notes when they could not meet. Some of their conversations at this time related to Taylor's progress on the poems for these occasions; Taylor had trouble concentrating his thoughts on the Ode for the Fourth of July, so he asked Winter to take his place at one of the events. Winter read a poem at the reunion of the Society of the Army of the Potomic, while Taylor read his "magnificent Ode" in front of Independence Hall (167-168). According to Winter, "he electrified a vast multitude and gained for himself a laurel that can never fade: for there is no other poem that so fully and so eloquently expresses the central thought of American civilization and the passionate enthusiasm for liberty by which that civilzation is permeated and sustained" (169). Winter reprints on p.169 a letter from Taylor in which he shares his impressions of the Centennial Celebration with Winter. Taylor writes: "As for myself, I don't know how it was, nor can I yet understand,--but I did what I never saw done before, and certainly shall never do again: thousands of common people were silenced, then moved, then kindled into a flame, by Poetry! It was this grand instinctive feeling of the mass which amazed me most" (169) Winter remarks that when he met with Taylor after the event, "Taylor's delight in the triumphant success of his ode was almost pathetic in its childlike ecstasy of happiness" (170).
On October 2, 1872, Taylor writes to Winter from Goatha, Germany. He discusses his current project of writing a History of Germany for schools, "for the sake of bread and butter," and also discusses the current business failures of his publications of his creative works. Taylor also mentions some of the reviews of his works, including Stedman's review of his Vienna Letters, which Taylor says he would think were ironic if he didn't have an existing friendship with Stedman and if Stedman hadn't seen the poem before it was published. Despite the commercial failures of his poetry, Taylor writes that he is still committed to producing it. Taylor also discusses his travel plans, homesickness, and his family (173-174). In a November 11 letter, Taylor discusses his writing and that he has sent off manuscripts to Osgood and Strahan & Co., in London. Taylor also mentions having lectured in German for the benefit of the Ladies' Charitable Associations of the city on the topic of American Literature. At this event, Taylor read a translation of Poe's "Raven" in German, some Whittier, and some other poems, and Taylor feels these works "seemed to make a strong impression." Taylor also writes about who else has written to him and comments positively on Winter's latest poetry. Taylor also inquires about the "Tribune" office after Greeley's death and mentions Reid's poem about the editor (174-176).
Taylor's poetic group included Richard Henry Stoddard, Elizabeth Barstow Stoddard, Edmund Clarence Stedman, George Henry Boker, Fitz-James O'Brien, Christopher P. Cranch, Fitz Hugh Ludlow, and George William Curtis. Winter notes that at the time of his writing "not one remains" of this group. Winter notes that Taylor's writings show that he had strong affection for Stoddard and Boker. Winter also recalls that his first meeting with Taylor was at the Stoddards' home at the northeast corner of Fourth Avenue and Tenth Street, in New York, where they would often gather their friends: "there I have seen Taylor, as also at his own fireside and at mine, the incarnation of joviality and the soul of mirth" (177).
Winter says of Taylor: "He was in no way ascetic. He loved the pleasures of life. No man could more completely obey than he did the Emersonian injunction to 'Hear what wine and roses say!'" (177).
Of Taylor's poetic influences, Winter writes: "In the earlier part of his career, he fancied himself a disciple of Shelley: there is, among his works, an ode to that elusive poet, whom he invokes as 'Immortal brother'; but, in fact, he had as little natural sympathy with the rainbow mysticism of that rainbow being as he had with his proclivity for dry bread. He would have consorted far more readily with Burns or Christopher North, 'the jolly bachelors of Tarbolton and Mauchline'..., or the genial revelers of the Noctes Ambrosianae. Not that he fancied carousal: but he was very human. Like Shelly, however, he loved Grecian themes: his 'Icarus,' 'Hylas' and 'Passing the Sirens' are fine imaginative examples of that love; but, like Burns, he habitually treated all themes in a spirit of ardent humanity" (177-178).
Winter notes that Stedman, Stoddard, Taylor, and Boker were not associated with Clapp, the Bohemians, or the group that gathered during the time of "The Saturday Press" and Pfaff's Cave. These men did not lead Bohemian lifestyles and were not sympathetic to the lifestyle (178). Winter notes that while "Taylor, roaming up and down the world,--as Goldsmith had done before him,--learning languages, consorting with all sorts of persons, and earning his bread with his pen, possessed the true Bohemian spirit; but, all the same, his tastes were domestic, his proclivities were those of the scholar and the artist, and he typifies not Grub Street, but literature; and in literature he especially represents the rare and precious attribute of poetic vitality; for his many-colored line throbs and glows with life,--not alone the life of intellect, but the life of the heart" (179).
Winter writes that "It is difficult to depict, in the cold gleam of words, the inspiring personality of Bayard Taylor and to indicate its value to the general experience" (179). Winter continues: "In the common life of every day he was the genial comrade, enjoying everything and happy in contributing to the happiness around him. In the life of the intellect, in the realm of thought and expression, he became transfigured; he was the priest at the altar, the veritable apostle of Art" (180).
Winter also notes that while Taylor, Stoddard, Stedman, Boker, Curtis, Ludlow, and the names of have been "comingled wtih those of Clapp's Bohemian associates," they "were not only not affiliated with that coterie but were distinct from it, and, in some instances, were inimical to it" (295). Winter also notes that both Taylor and Stoddard were friends with O'Brien, but their friendship did not last (295).
Taylor is buried in Longwood, PA. "Upon his grave...there is a Greek altar, inscribed with the words, 'He being dead yet speaketh.' It is not an idle epitaph. As long as there is beauty in the world, and as long as there are human hearts to receive its message of joy and hope, his voice will be heard" (180).
Albert Henry Smyth wrote a Life of Bayard Taylor (332).