Quote

One by one, like leaves from a tree, / All my faiths have forsaken me.

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
Faith
Like
Faiths
Forsaken
Leaves
Tree

More quotes by 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
The world is tired, the year is old, The faded leaves are glad to die.
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
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
My heart is a garden tired with autumn.
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
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
Image
I shall gather myself into my self again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
Sara Teasdale
Image
A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air, The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much, The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May Shining after the rain?
Sara Teasdale
Image
The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
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
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 make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.
Sara Teasdale
Image
A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love The world is waiting for the spring.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
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
Image
Spend all you have for loveliness.
Sara Teasdale
Image
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
Image
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
Sara Teasdale