192 Quotes by Sara Teasdale

She can't be unhappy,' you said,'The smiles are like stars in her eyes,And her laugh is thistledownAround her low replies.''Is she unhappy?' you said–But who has ever knownAnother's heartbreak–All he can know is how own;And she seems hushed to me,As hushed as thoughHer heart were a hunter's fireSmothered in snow.

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.

It will not hurt me when I am old,A running tide where moonlight burnedWill not sting me like silver snakes;The years will make me sad and cold,It is the happy heart the breaks.The hearts asks more than life can give,When that is learned, then all is learned;The waves break fold on jewelled fold,But beauty itself is fugitive,It will not hurt me when I am old.

When I am not with youI am alone,For there is no one elseAnd there is nothingThat comforts me but you.When you are gone Suddenly I am sick,Blackness is round me,There is nothing left.I have tried many things,Music and cities,Stars in their constellationsAnd the sea,But there is nothingThat comforts me but you;And my poor pride bows downLike grass in a rain-stormDrenched with my longing.The night is unbearable,Oh let me go to youFor there is no one,There is nothingTo comfort me but you.

Let it be you who lean above meOn my last day,Let it be you who shut my eyelidsForever and aye.Say a 'Good-night' as you have said itAll of these years,With the old look, with the old whisperAll without tears.You will know then all that in silenceYou always knew,Though I have loved, I loved no otherAs I love you.

I saw a star slide down the sky,Blinding the north as it went by,Too burning and too quick to hold,Too lovely to be bought or sold,Good only to make wishes onAnd then forever to be gone.

Oh, I could let the world go by,Its loud new wonders and its wars,BUt how will I give up the skyWhen winter dusk is set with stars?And I could let the cities go,Their changing customs and their creeds,–In silver on the jewel-weeds!

Now while my lips are livingTheir words must stay unsaid,And will my soul rememberTo speak when I am dead?Yet if my soul rememberedYou would not heed it, dear,For now you must now listen,And then you could not hear.

Since Death brushed past me once more to-day,Let me say quickly what I must say:Take without shame the love I give you,Take it before I am hurried away.You are intrepid, noble, kind, My heart goes to you with my mind,The plummet of your thought is longSunk in deep water, cold with song.You are all I asked, my dear–My words are said, my way is clear.