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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.
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
Never
Lasts
Life
Last
Victories
Seems
Splendid
Ever
Begun
Everything
Ended
Come
Brave
Nothing
Victory
Really
Seem
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
Life is a frail moth flying Caught in the web of the years that pass.
Sara Teasdale
My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.
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
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.
Sara Teasdale
But oh, to him I loved Who loved me not at all,I owe the little open gate That led thru heaven's wall.
Sara Teasdale
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.
Sara Teasdale
What we have never had, remains It is the things we have that go.
Sara Teasdale
I shall gather myself into my self again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
Sara Teasdale
The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves.
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
My heart is a garden tired with autumn.
Sara Teasdale
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.
Sara Teasdale
Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer, Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples, The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence Under a moon waning and worn, broken, Tired with summer.
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
Life has loveliness to sell, / Music like a curve of gold, / Scent of pine trees in the rain, / Eyes that love you, arms that hold, / And for your spirit's still delight, / Holy thoughts that star the night.
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
The spring is fresh and fearless And every leaf is new, The world is brimmed with moonlight, The lilac brimmed with dew. Here in the moving shadows I catch my breath and sing - My heart is fresh and fearless And over-brimmed with spring.
Sara Teasdale
The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
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