Quote

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

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Keep
Tired
Swirling
Spirit
Died
Peak
Earth
Highest
Stood
World
Alone
Gray
Though
Hidden
Space
Snow
Heaven
Endless
Peace
Lonely
Unfurled

More quotes by Sara Teasdale

Image
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
Image
There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
Sara Teasdale
Image
It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
Sara Teasdale
Image
There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
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
Image
The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
Sara Teasdale
Image
And for a breath of ecstasy / Give all you have been, or could be.
Sara Teasdale
Image
But what do I care, for love will be over so soon, Let my heart have its say and my mind stand idly by, For my mind is proud and strong enough to be silent, It is my heart that makes my songs, not I.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
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
Image
The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
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
Image
I shall not let a sorrow die Until I find the heart of it, Nor let a wordless joy go by Until it talks to me a bit.
Sara Teasdale
Image
The world is tired, the year is old, The faded leaves are glad to die.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.
Sara Teasdale