Sara Teasdale Poems

"She can't be unhappy," you said,
"The smiles are like stars in her eyes,
And her laughter is thistledown
Around her low replies."
...

In the wild soft summer darkness
How many and many a night we two together
Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
Wearing her lights like golden spangles
...

Oh would I were the roses, that lie against her hands,
The heavy burning roses she touches as she stands!
...

In the spring I asked the daisies
If his words were true,
And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
Always knew.
...

Why did you bring me here?
The sand is white with snow,
Over the wooden domes
The winter sea-winds blow--
...

If I should see your eyes again,
I know how far their look would go --
Back to a morning in the park
With sapphire shadows on the snow.
...

My soul is a dark ploughed field
In the cold rain;
My soul is a broken field
Ploughed by pain.
...

After a year I came again to the place;
The tireless lights and the reverberation,
The angry thunder of trains that burrow the ground,
The hunted, hurrying people were still the same--
...

I

O mother, I am sick of love,
I cannot laugh nor lift my head,
...

When we come home at night and close the door,
Standing together in the shadowy room,
Safe in our own love and the gentle gloom,
Glad of familiar wall and chair and floor,
...