Sara Teasdale Poems

You took my empty dreams
And filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun.
...

Her voice is like clear water
That drips upon a stone
In forests far and silent
Where Quiet plays alone.
...

Alone in the night
On a dark hill
With pines around me
Spicy and still,
...

Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
Only a voice.
...

Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
...

The dreams of my heart and my mind pass,
Nothing stays with me long,
But I have had from a child
The deep solace of song;
...

Send out the singers -- let the room be still;
They have not eased my pain nor brought me sleep.
Close out the sun, for I would have it dark
That I may feel how black the grave will be.
...

It will not change now
After so many years;
Life has not broken it
With parting or tears;
...

Beside an ebbing northern sea
While stars awaken one by one,
We walk together, I and he.
...

A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music after me,
As spun foam lifted and borne on
After the wave is lost in the full sea.
...