Sara Teasdale

  • 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.

    I am free of love, and I listen to music lightly,
    But if he returned, if he should look at me deeply,...

  • Brown-thrush singing all day long
    In the leaves above me,
    Take my love this April song,
    "Love me, love me, love me!"

    When he harkens what you say,
    Bid him, lest he miss me,
    Leave his work or leave his play,
    And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!

  • 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,
    To-night my heart is sad;
    His kiss was not so wonderful
    As all the dreams I had.

  • I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
    Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that

    I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
    I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul

  • I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
    And walking up the long beach all alone
    I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
    As you and I once heard their monotone.

    Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me
    The cold and sparkling silver of the sea,

  • When April bends above me
    And finds me fast asleep
    Dust need not keep the secret
    A live heart died to keep.

    When April tells the thrushes,
    The meadow-larks will know,
    And pipe the three words lightly
    To all the winds that blow.

    Above his roof the...

  • I am not yours, not lost in you,
    Not lost, although I long to be
    Lost as a candle lit at noon,
    Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

    You love me, and I find you still
    A spirit beautiful and bright,
    Yet I am I, who long to be
    Lost as a light is lost in light.

  • Shall we, too, rise forgetful from our sleep,
    And shall my soul that lies within your hand
    Remember nothing, as the blowing sand
    Forgets the palm where long blue shadows creep
    When winds along the darkened desert sweep?

    Or would it still remember, tho' it spanned

  • May

    The wind is tossing the lilacs,
    The new leaves laugh in the sun,
    And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
    But for me the spring is done.

    Beneath the apple blossoms
    I go a wintry way,
    For love that smiled in April
    Is false to me in May.