192 Quotes by Sara Teasdale

There in the windy flood of morning Longing lifted its weight from me, Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering, Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.

The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves.

It will not hurt me when I am old, A running tide where moonlight burned Will not sting me like silver snakes;The years will make me sad and cold, It is the happy heart that breaks.

Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.

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

A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.

My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.

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.

Though I know he loves me, tonight my heart is sad; his kiss was not so wonderful as all the dreams I had.