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- I MUST have passed the crest a while ago
- And now I am going down--
- Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,
- But the brambles were always grabbing at the hem of my gown.
- All the morning I thought how proud I should be
- To stand there straight as a queen,
- Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me--
- But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.
- It was nearly level along the beaten track
- And the brambles caught in my gown--
- But it's no use now to think of turning back,
- The rest of the way will be only going down.
- Sara Teasdale

- LIFE has loveliness to sell,
- All beautiful and splendid things,
- Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
- Soaring fire that sways and sings,
- And children's faces looking up,
- Holding wonder like a cup.
- Life has loveliness to sell,
- Music like a curve of gold,
- Scent of pine trees in the rain,
- Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
- And for your spirit's still delight,
- Holy thoughts that star the night.
- Spend all you have for loveliness,
- Buy it and never count the cost;
- For one white singing hour of peace
- Count many a year of strife well lost,
- And for a breath of ecstacy
- Give all you have been, or could be.
- Sara Teasdale
- PEACE flows into me
- As the tide to the pool by the shore;
- It is mine forevermore,
- It ebbs not back like the sea.
- I am the pool of blue
- That worships the vivid sky;
- My hopes were heaven-high,
- They are all fulfilled in you.
- I am the pool of gold
- When sunset burns and dies, --
- You are my deepening skies,
- Give me your stars to hold.
- Sara Teasdale (1915)
- FIELDS beneath a quilt of snow
- From which the rocks and stubble sleep,
- And in the west a shy white star
- That shivers as it wakes from deep.
- The restless rumble of the train,
- The drowsy people in the car,
- Steel blue twilight in the world,
- And in my heart a timid star.
- Sara Teasdale (1915)
- I AM wild, I will sing to the trees,
- I will sing to the stars in the sky,
- I love, I am loved, he is mine,
- Now at last I can die!
- I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
- I have heart-fire and singing to give,
- I can tread on the grass or the stars,
- Now at last I can live!
- Sara Teasdale (1915)
- I LIFT my heart as spring lifts up
- A yellow daisy to the rain;
- My heart will be a lovely cup
- Altho' it holds but pain.
- For I shall learn from flower and leaf
- That color every drop they hold,
- To change the lifeless wine of grief
- To living gold.
- Sara Teasdale (1915)
- I HAVE come the selfsame path
- To the selfsame door,
- Years have left the roses there
- Burning as before.
- While I watch them in the wind
- Quick the hot tears start --
- Strange so frail a flame outlasts
- Fire in the heart.
- Sara Teasdale (1915)
- THE moon is a charring ember
- Dying into the dark;
- Off in the crouching mountains
- Coyotes bark.
- The stars are heavy in heaven,
- Too great for the sky to hold --
- What if they fell and shattered
- The earth with gold?
- No lights are over the mesa,
- The wind is hard and wild,
- I stand at the darkened window
- And cry like a child.
- Sara Teasdale (1915)

- THE park is filled with night and fog,
- The veils are drawn about the world,
- The drowsy lights along the paths
- Are dim and pearled.
- Gold and gleaming are the empty streets,
- Gold and gleaming the misty lake.
- The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
- Glimmer and shake.
- Oh, is it not enough to be
- Here with this beauty over me?
- My throat should ache with praise, and I
- Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
- O beauty, are you not enough?
- Why am I crying after love
- With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
- To take earth's wonder with surprise?
- Why have I put off my pride,
- Why am I unsatisfied,--
- I, for whom the pensive night
- Binds her cloudy hair with light,--
- I, for whom all beauty burns
- Like incense in a million urns?
- O beauty, are you not enough?
- Why am I crying after love?
- Sara Teasdale

- WHEN I am dead and over me bright April
- Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
- Though you shall lean above me broken-hearted,
- I shall not care.
- I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
- When rain bends down the bough;
- And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
- Than you are now.
- Sara Teasdale
- I ASKED the heaven of stars
- What I should I give my love--
- It answered me with silence,
- Silence above.
- I asked the darkened sea
- Down where the fishermen go--
- It answered me with silence,
- Silence below.
- Oh, I could give him weeping,
- Or I could give him song--
- But how can I give silence
- My whole life long?
- Sara Teasdale
- IF YOU have forgotten water lilies floating
- On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
- If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
- Then you can return and not be afraid.
- But if you remember, then turn away forever
- To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,
- There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,
- And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.
- Sara Teasdale

The Crystal Gazer
- I shall gather myself into myself again,
- I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
- I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball
- Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
- I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
- Watching the future come and the present go--
- And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
- In tiny self-importance to and fro.
The Solitary
- Let them think I love them more than I do,
- Let them think I care, though I go alone,
- If it lifts their pride, what is it to me
- Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone?
- It is one to me that they come or go
- If I have myself and the drive of my will,
- And strength to climb on a summer night
- And watch the stars swarm over the hill.
- My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
- I have less need now than when I was young
- To share myself with every comer,
- Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.
- Sara Teasdale

- IN THE spring I asked the daisies
- If his words were true,
- And the clever little daisies
- Always knew.
- Now the fields are brown and barren,
- Bitter autumn blows,
- And of all the stupid asters
- Not one knows.
- Sara Teasdale
- THE wind is tossing the lilacs,
- The new leaves laugh in the sun,
- And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
- But for me the spring is done.
- Beneath the apple blossoms
- I go a wintry way,
- For love that smiled in April
- Is false to me in May.
- Sara Teasdale
- AS KINGS, seeing their lives about to pass,
- Take off the heavy ermine and the crown,
- So had the trees that autumn-time laid down
- Their golden garments on the dying grass,
- When I, who watched the seasons in the glass
- Of my own thoughts, saw all the autumn's brown
- Leap into life and wear a sunny gown
- Of leafage fresh as happy April has.
- Great spring came singing upward from the south;
- For in my heart, far carried on the wind,
- Your words like winged seeds took root and grew,
- And all the world caught music from your mouth;
- I saw the light as one who had been blind,
- And knew my sun and song and spring were you.
- Sara Teasdale

- CRISPY the bright snow whispered,
- Crunching beneath our feet;
- Behind us as we walked along the parkway,
- Our shadows danced,
- Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
- Across the lake the skaters
- Flew to and fro,
- With sharp turns weaving
- A frail invisible net.
- In ecstacy the earth
- Drank the silver sunlight;
- In ecstacy the skaters
- Drank the wine of speed;
- In ecstacy we laughed
- Drinking the wine of love.
- Had not the music of our joy
- Sounded its highest note?
- But no,
- For suddenly, with lifted eyes you said,
- "Oh look!"
- There, on the black bough of a snow flecked maple,
- Fearless and gay as our love,
- A bluejay cocked his crest!
- Oh who can tell the range of joy
- Or set the bounds of beauty?
- Sara Teasdale

- I LOVE too much; I am a river
- Surging with spring that seeks the sea,
- I am too generous a giver,
- Love will not stoop to drink of me.
- His feet will turn to desert places
- Shadowless, reft of rain and dew,
- Where stars stare down with sharpened faces
- From heavens pitilessly blue.
- And there at midnight sick with faring,
- He will stoop down in his desire
- To slake the thirst grown past all bearing
- In stagnant water keen as fire.
- Sara Teasdale
- ONE by one, like leaves from a tree,
- All my faiths have forsaken me;
- But the stars above my head
- Burn in white and delicate red,
- And beneath my feet the earth
- Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
- I who was content to be
- But a silken-singing tree,
- But a rustle of delight
- In the wistful heart of night--
- I have lost the leaves that knew
- Touch of rain and weight of dew.
- Blinded by a leafy crown
- I looked neither up nor down--
- But the little leaves that die
- Have left me room to see the sky;
- Now for the first time I know
- Stars above and earth below.
- Sara Teasdale
- AS DEW leaves the cobweb lightly
- Threaded with stars,
- Scattering jewels on the fence
- And the pasture bars;
- As dawn leaves the dry grass bright
- And the tangled weeds
- Bearing a rainbow gem
- On each of their seeds;
- So has your love, my lover,
- Fresh as the dawn,
- Made me a shining road
- To travel on,
- Set every common sight
- Of tree or stone
- Delicately alight
- For me alone.
- Sara Teasdale
- MY SOUL is a dark ploughed field
- In the cold rain;
- My soul is a broken field
- Ploughed by pain.
- Where grass and bending flowers
- Were growing,
- The field lies broken now
- For another sowing.
- Great Sower when you tread
- My field again,
- Scatter the furrows there
- With better grain.
- Sara Teasdale
- "SHE can't be unhappy," you said,
- "The smiles are like stars in her eyes,
- And her laughter is thistledown
- Around her low replies."
- "Is she unhappy?" you said--
- But who has ever known
- Another's heartbreak--
- All he can know is his own;
- And she seems hushed to me,
- As hushed as though
- Her heart were a hunter's fire
- Smothered in snow.
- Sara Teasdale
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