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Though I know he loves me, tonight my heart is sad his kiss was not so wonderful as all the dreams I had.
Sara Teasdale
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Sara Teasdale
Age: 48 †
Born: 1884
Born: August 8
Died: 1933
Died: January 29
Poet
Writer
St. Louis
Missouri
Sara Teasdale Filsinger
Sara Trevor Teasdale
Heart
Tonight
Kiss
Kissing
Loves
Dreams
Wonderful
Though
Dream
Sad
More quotes by Sara Teasdale
From my spirit's gray defeat, From my pulse's flagging beat, From my hopes that turned to sand Sifting through my close-clenched hand, From my own fault's slavery, If I can sing, I still am free. For with my singing I can make A refuge for my spirit's sake, A house of shining words, to be My fragile immortality.
Sara Teasdale
I am alone, as though I stood On the highest peak of the tired gray world,About me only swirling snow, Above me, endless space unfurledWith earth hidden and heaven hidden, And only my own spirit's prideTo keep me from the peace of those Who are not lonely, having died.
Sara Teasdale
SONG You bound strong sandals on my feet, You gave me bread and wine, And sent me under sun and stars, For all the world was mine. Oh, take the sandals off my feet, You know not what you do, For all my world is in your arms, My sun and stars are you.
Sara Teasdale
Love in my heart is a cry forever Lost as the swallow's flight, Seeking for you and never, never Stilled by the stars at night
Sara Teasdale
Love said, Wake still and think of me, Sleep, Close your eyes till break of day, But Dreams came by and smilingly Gave both to Love and Sleep their way.
Sara Teasdale
It will not hurt me when I am old, A running tide where moonlight burned Will not sting me like silver snakesThe years will make me sad and cold, It is the happy heart that breaks.
Sara Teasdale
And for a breath of ecstasy / Give all you have been, or could be.
Sara Teasdale
The world is tired, the year is old, The faded leaves are glad to die.
Sara Teasdale
The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
Sara Teasdale
It is my heart that makes my songs, not I.
Sara Teasdale
My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.
Sara Teasdale
I am not yours, nor 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.
Sara Teasdale
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Sara Teasdale
Make songs for Death as you would sing to Love -But you will not assuage him. He aloneOf all the gods will take no gifts from men.
Sara Teasdale
The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves.
Sara Teasdale
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
Sara Teasdale
Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?
Sara Teasdale
The roofs are shining from the rain, The sparrows twitter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree- I could not be so sure of Spring Save that it sings in me.
Sara Teasdale
No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.
Sara Teasdale
O lovely chance, what can I doTo give my gratefulness to you?You rise between myself and meWith a wise persistencyI would have broken body and soul,But by your grace, still I am whole.
Sara Teasdale