Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

Sara Teasdale Poems

121. The Metropolitan Tower 1/3/2003
122. Pierrot 1/3/2003
123. Dream Song 4/6/2010
124. From The North 1/3/2003
125. The Poor House 1/3/2003
126. Song At Capri 1/1/2004
127. Arcturus 4/6/2010
128. Madeira From The Sea 1/3/2003
129. The Giver 1/1/2004
130. The Cloud 1/3/2003
131. Night Song Of Amalfi 1/3/2003
132. Dead Love 4/6/2010
133. Youth And The Pilgrim 1/3/2003
134. On The Death Of Swinburne 1/3/2003
135. The Lighted Window 1/3/2003
136. Swallow Flight 1/3/2003
137. The India Wharf 1/3/2003
138. In Memoriam F.O.S. 1/3/2003
139. Over The Roofs 1/3/2003
140. Pierrot's Song 1/3/2003
141. Riches 1/1/2004
142. Erinna 1/3/2003
143. February 1/3/2003
144. The Old Maid 1/3/2003
145. Open Windows 1/4/2003
146. Morning 1/3/2003
147. The Carpenter's Son 1/3/2003
148. The Blind 1/3/2003
149. When Love Was Born 1/3/2003
150. A Boy 4/6/2010
151. Testament 1/3/2003
152. The Return 1/3/2003
153. Helen Of Troy 1/3/2003
154. Old Tunes 1/3/2003
155. For The Anniversary Of John Keats' Death 1/3/2003
156. The Rose 1/3/2003
157. In The Train 1/3/2003
158. The Long Hill 1/3/2003
159. I Know The Stars 4/6/2010
160. May Wind 1/1/2004

Comments about Sara Teasdale

  • ayesha angel (2/17/2015 8:47:00 AM)


    5 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • Jane Goodman (8/3/2010 9:47:00 PM)

    Does anyone have information about 'The Potter's Wheel', a paper created by several of Teasdale's contemporaries? I remember its existence at Missouri Historic Society but have read no mention of it in any Teasdale biography material. since that time (early 1960's) Each edition was handmade and passed to participating artists who added their contributions. Would like to know how long it was in existence and who participated in the composition.

  • M Dixon (4/10/2010 11:36:00 PM)

    I'm a composer and songwriter that discovered the words of Sara Teasdale last year (2009) and chose to record a new album based on ten of her poems. The music is 21st century popular music, but it is written with respect to Sara's genius of prose. You can get a sneak preview of five tracks from this new album (due later in 2010) on my artist page in MySpace (http: // . Post comments there if you like. I hope this project meets with approval of the poetry community.

  • Steven M. Burke (3/15/2010 12:41:00 PM)

    The love thats in my heart for you Sara my sweet is as i have falling in-love for the first time. Your words bring a love that has been lost inside of my soul due to heartbreak from so many. There are no more women like you in the world. Peace be with you and you are and always will be loved by the world.

  • Babyjoram Benson (5/18/2009 5:49:00 AM)

    My name is Miss favor am 24yr old. I saw your profile today at
    and it really acttract me alot i believe that you are the man i
    have been looking for to share my love; How is your health? i hope all is well
    with you. I believe that we can move from here; but remember that distance; age
    and colour dose not matter what matters is the true love and understanding; in
    my next
    e-mail i shall include my pictuer; i been waithing for your reply mail
    me with this mail address for further introduction.
    Bye hopeing to hear from you soonest


  • Rohan R (7/29/2008 10:09:00 AM)

    An authentic poet that explains realities so nicely with a compressive outlook

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (7/14/2008 3:49:00 AM)

    Dear sara, your poems touch my heart again and again.

Best Poem of Sara Teasdale

Advice To A Girl

No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;
This truth, this hard and precious stone,
Lay it on your hot cheek,
Let it hide your tear.
Hold it like a crystal
When you are alone
And gaze in the depths of the icy stone.
Long, look long and you will be blessed:
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed.

Read the full of Advice To A Girl


This is the quiet hour; the theaters
Have gathered in their crowds, and steadily
The million lights blaze on for few to see,
Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers.
A woman waits with bag and shabby furs,
A somber man drifts by, and only we
Pass up the street unwearied, warm and free,
For over us the olden magic stirs.

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