Sara Teasdale

I almost gave my life long ago for a thingThat has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes__t is strange how often a heart must be brokenBefore the years can make it wise.

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 is strange how often a heart must be broken Before the years can make it wise.

Oh I must pass nothing byWithout loving it much,The raindrop try with my lips,The grass with my touch;For how can I be sureI shall see againThe world on the first of MayShining after the rain?

Down the hill I went, and then,I forgot the ways of men,For night-scents, heady and damp and coolWakened ecstasy

In my heart's most secret place,I pity them as angels do.

I would not have a god come in To shield me suddenly from sin, And set my house of life to rights; Nor angels with bright burning wings Ordering my earthly thoughts and things; Rather my own frail guttering lights Wind blown and nearly beaten out; Rather the terror of the nights And long, sick groping after doubt; Rather be lost than let my soul Slip vaguely from my own control -- Of my own spirit let me be In sole though feeble mastery.

This is the spot where I will lie When life has had enough of me, These are the grasses that will blow Above me like a living sea.These gay old lilies will not shrink To draw their life from death of mine, And I will give my body's fire To make blue flowers on this vine."O Soul," I said, "have you no tears? Was not the body dear to you?" I heard my soul say carelessly, "The myrtle flowers will grow more blue.

Child, child, love while you can The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man; Never fear though it break your heart-Out of the wound new joy will start; Only love proudly and gladly and well, Though love be heaven or love be hell.Child, child, love while you may, For life is short as a happy day; Never fear the thing you feel-Only by love is life made real; Love, for the deadly sins are seven, Only through love will you enter heaven.

Stephen kissed me in the spring,Robin in the fall,But Colin only looked at meAnd never kissed at all.Stephen__ kiss was lost in jest,Robin__ lost in play,But the kiss in Colin__ eyesHaunts me night and day.

When I can look life in the eyes, grown calm and very coldly wise, life will have given me the truth, and taken in exchange - my youth.

Wisdom is not acquired save as the result of investigation.

Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.

Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children's faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup.

Life is but thought.

Joy was a flame in me Too steady to destroy. Lithe as a bending reed Loving the storm that sways her - I found more joy in sorrow Than you could find in joy.

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

I have no riches but my thoughts. Yet these are wealth enough for me.