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Sara Teasdale, love, in English Clear filters

RomanticSara Teasdale

The Beloved

It is enough of honor for one lifetime To have known you better than the rest have known, The shadows and the colors of your voice, Your will, immutable and still as stone. The shy heart, so lonely and so gay, The sad laughter and the pride of pride, The tenderness, the depth of tenderness Rich as the earth, and wide as heaven is wide.
RomanticSara Teasdale

Winter Sun

There was a bush with scarlet berries And there were hemlocks heaped with snow; With a sound like surf on long sea-beaches They took the wind and let it go. The hills were shining in their samite, Fold after fold they flowed away-- “Let come what may,” your eyes were saying, “At least we two have had to-day.”
ContemplativeSara Teasdale

Day's Ending

Aloof as aged kings, Wearing like them the purple, The mountains ring the mesa Crowned with a dusky light; Many a time I watched That coming-on of darkness Till stars burned through the heavens Intolerably bright. It was not long I lived there But I became a woman Under those vehement stars. For it was there I heard For the first time my spirit Forging an iron rule for me, As though with slow cold hammers Beating out word by word:
SadSara Teasdale

Words for an Old Air

Your heart is bound tightly, let Beauty beware, It is not hers to set Free from the snare. Tell her a bleeding hand Bound it and tied it, Tell her the knot will stand Though she deride it; One who withheld so long All that you yearned to take, Has made a snare too strong For Beauty’s self to break.
RomanticSara Teasdale

Appraisal

Never think she loves him wholly, Never believe her love is blind, All his faults are locked securely In a closet of her mind; All his indecisions folded Like old flags that time has faded, Limp and streaked with rain, And his cautiousness like garments Frayed and thin, with many a stain-- Let them be, oh let them be, There is treasure to outweigh them, His proud will that sharply stirred, Climbs as surely as the tide, Senses strained too taut to sleep, Gentleness to beast and bird, Humor flickering hushed and wide
RomanticSara Teasdale

Two Minds

Your mind and mine are such great lovers they Have freed themselves from cautious human clay, And on wild clouds of thought, naked together They ride above us in extreme delight; We see them, we look up with a lone envy And watch them in their zone of crystal weather That changes not for winter or the night.
DreamySara Teasdale

Those Who Love

Those who love the most, Do not talk of their love, Francesca, Guinevere, Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise, In the fragrant gardens of heaven Are silent, or speak if at all Of fragile, inconsequent things. And a woman I used to know Who loved one man from her youth, Against the strength of the fates Fighting in somber pride, Never spoke of this thing, But hearing his name by chance, A light would pass over her face.

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