Sara Teasdale Poems

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
...

I have remembered beauty in the night,
Against black silences I waked to see
A shower of sunlight over Italy
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
...

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--
...

I am free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn,
Swift and intent, asking no joy from another,
Glad to forget all of the passion of April
Ere it was love-free.
...

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,
...