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The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves.

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
Nothing
Yellow
River
Leaves
Grieves
Rivers
Patiently
Sea
Remembers
Takes
Drift
Fall
Grieving
Remember
Autumn

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I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful when rain bends down the bough And I shall be more silent and cold hearted than you are now.
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No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.
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A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love The world is waiting for the spring.
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One by one, like leaves from a tree, / All my faiths have forsaken me.
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I saw above a sea of hills A solitary planet shine, And there was no one, near or far, to keep the world from being mine.
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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.
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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
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Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be.
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My heart is a garden tired with autumn.
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There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.
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Spend all you have for loveliness.
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When I can look life in the eyes, grown calm and very coldly wise, life will have given me the truth, and taken in exchange - my youth.
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And for a breath of ecstasy / Give all you have been, or could be.
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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.
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Oh Earth, you gave me all I have, I love you, I love you, - oh what have IThat I can give you in return - Except my body after I die?
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My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.
Sara Teasdale
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Now at last I have come to see what life is, Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun, And the brave victories that seem so splendid Are never really won.
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I try to catch at many a tuneLike petals of light fallen from the moon,Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,But they float away - for who can holdYouth, or perfume or the moon's gold?
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I shall gather myself into my self again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
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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.
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