Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

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Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933) was an American lyric poet. She was born Sarah Trevor Teasdale in St. Louis, Missouri, and used the name Sara Teasdale Filsinger after her marriage in 1914.
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Love Songs

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I have remembered beauty in the night,
Against black silences I waked to seeA shower of sunlight over
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
I have remembered music in the dark,
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Wisdom

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When I have ceased to break my wings Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I have looked Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
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Leaves

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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-sing...
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Roses And Rue

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Bring me the roses white and red,
And take the laurel leaves away;
Yea, wreathe the roses round my
That wearies 'neath the crown of bay
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Doubt

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My soul lives in my body's house,
And you have both the house and her —But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer;
A restless and an eager wraith,
How can I tell what she will do —Oh,
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Moonlight

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It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
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There Will Come Soft Rains

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There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
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I Shall Not Care

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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;
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Stars

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Alone in the
On a dark
With pines around
Spicy and still,
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The Fountain

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Oh in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone;
It sang to the drowsy heart Of a satyr carved in stone
The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred— Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard
The fountain sang ...
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In The Train

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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,
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Two Minds

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Your mind and mine are such great lovers
Have freed themselves from cautious human clay,
And on wild clouds of thought, naked
They ride above us in extreme delight;
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Let It Be Forgotten

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Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old
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The Kiss

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I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south
For though I know he loves me,
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In Spring Santa Barbara

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I
VE been happy two weeks together,
My love is coming home to me,
Gold and silver is the
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Child Child

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Child, child, love while you
The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man;
Never fear though it break your heart —Out of the wound new joy will start;
Only love proudly and gladly and well,
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