Quote

The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.

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
Like
Lights
Climbing
Walls
Flowers
Window
Flower
Wall
Myriads
Light
Bloom

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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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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.
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It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise.
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There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
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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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Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.
Sara Teasdale
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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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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.
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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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There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.
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Faults They came to tell your faults to me, They named them over one by one I laughed aloud when they were done, I knew them all so well before,-- Oh, they were blind, too blind to see Your faults had made me love you more.
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And for a breath of ecstasy / Give all you have been, or could be.
Sara Teasdale
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One by one, like leaves from a tree, / All my faiths have forsaken me.
Sara Teasdale
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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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What we have never had, remains It is the things we have that go.
Sara Teasdale
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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.
Sara Teasdale
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Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
Sara Teasdale
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It is my heart that makes my songs, not I.
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Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?
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The world is tired, the year is old, The faded leaves are glad to die.
Sara Teasdale