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Best Famous Sara Teasdale Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Sara Teasdale poems. This is a select list of the best famous Sara Teasdale poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Sara Teasdale poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Sara Teasdale poems.

Search for the best famous Sara Teasdale poems, articles about Sara Teasdale poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Sara Teasdale poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

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Poems are below...


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Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

I Am Not Yours

I am not yours, not 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.
Oh plunge me deep in love - put out My senses, leave me deaf and blind, Swept by the tempest of your love, A taper in a rushing wind.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

A November Night

 There! See the line of lights,
A chain of stars down either side the street --
Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,
A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round
And you could play with it.
You smile at me As though I were a little dreamy child Behind whose eyes the fairies live.
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And see, The people on the street look up at us All envious.
We are a king and queen, Our royal carriage is a motor bus, We watch our subjects with a haughty joy.
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How still you are! Have you been hard at work And are you tired to-night? It is so long Since I have seen you -- four whole days, I think.
My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts Like early flowers in an April meadow, And I must give them to you, all of them, Before they fade.
The people I have met, The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows That hurry, gesturing along a wall, Haunting or gay -- and yet they all grow real And take their proper size here in my heart When you have seen them.
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There's the Plaza now, A lake of light! To-night it almost seems That all the lights are gathered in your eyes, Drawn somehow toward you.
See the open park Lying below us with a million lamps Scattered in wise disorder like the stars.
We look down on them as God must look down On constellations floating under Him Tangled in clouds.
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Come, then, and let us walk Since we have reached the park.
It is our garden, All black and blossomless this winter night, But we bring April with us, you and I; We set the whole world on the trail of spring.
I think that every path we ever took Has marked our footprints in mysterious fire, Delicate gold that only fairies see.
When they wake up at dawn in hollow tree-trunks And come out on the drowsy park, they look Along the empty paths and say, "Oh, here They went, and here, and here, and here! Come, see, Here is their bench, take hands and let us dance About it in a windy ring and make A circle round it only they can cross When they come back again!" .
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Look at the lake -- Do you remember how we watched the swans That night in late October while they slept? Swans must have stately dreams, I think.
But now The lake bears only thin reflected lights That shake a little.
How I long to take One from the cold black water -- new-made gold To give you in your hand! And see, and see, There is a star, deep in the lake, a star! Oh, dimmer than a pearl -- if you stoop down Your hand could almost reach it up to me.
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There was a new frail yellow moon to-night -- I wish you could have had it for a cup With stars like dew to fill it to the brim.
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How cold it is! Even the lights are cold; They have put shawls of fog around them, see! What if the air should grow so dimly white That we would lose our way along the paths Made new by walls of moving mist receding The more we follow.
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What a silver night! That was our bench the time you said to me The long new poem -- but how different now, How eerie with the curtain of the fog Making it strange to all the friendly trees! There is no wind, and yet great curving scrolls Carve themselves, ever changing, in the mist.
Walk on a little, let me stand here watching To see you, too, grown strange to me and far.
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I used to wonder how the park would be If one night we could have it all alone -- No lovers with close arm-encircled waists To whisper and break in upon our dreams.
And now we have it! Every wish comes true! We are alone now in a fleecy world; Even the stars have gone.
We two alone!
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

Longing

 I am not sorry for my soul
That it must go unsatisfied,
For it can live a thousand times,
Eternity is deep and wide.
I am not sorry for my soul, But oh, my body that must go Back to a little drift of dust Without the joy it longed to know.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

Alone

 I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.
I am alone, as though I stood On the highest peak of the tired gray world, About me only swirling snow, Above me, endless space unfurled; With earth hidden and heaven hidden, And only my own spirit's pride To keep me from the peace of those Who are not lonely, having died.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

The Ghost

 I went back to the clanging city,
 I went back where my old loves stayed,
But my heart was full of my new love's glory,
 My eyes were laughing and unafraid.
I met one who had loved me madly And told his love for all to hear -- But we talked of a thousand things together, The past was buried too deep to fear.
I met the other, whose love was given With never a kiss and scarcely a word -- Oh, it was then the terror took me Of words unuttered that breathed and stirred.
Oh, love that lives its life with laughter Or love that lives its life with tears Can die -- but love that is never spoken Goes like a ghost through the winding years.
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I went back to the clanging city, I went back where my old loves stayed, My heart was full of my new love's glory, -- But my eyes were suddenly afraid.
Written by Joyce Kilmer | Create an image from this poem

Madness

 (For Sara Teasdale)

The lonely farm, the crowded street,
The palace and the slum,
Give welcome to my silent feet
As, bearing gifts, I come.
Last night a beggar crouched alone, A ragged helpless thing; I set him on a moonbeam throne -- Today he is a king.
Last night a king in orb and crown Held court with splendid cheer; Today he tears his purple gown And moans and shrieks in fear.
Not iron bars, nor flashing spears, Not land, nor sky, nor sea, Nor love's artillery of tears Can keep mine own from me.
Serene, unchanging, ever fair, I smile with secret mirth And in a net of mine own hair I swing the captive earth.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

The Mystery

 Your eyes drink of me,
Love makes them shine,
Your eyes that lean
So close to mine.
We have long been lovers, We know the range Of each other's moods And how they change; But when we look At each other so Then we feel How little we know; The spirit eludes us, Timid and free— Can I ever know you Or you know me?
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

Buried Love

 I have come to bury Love
 Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and black
 Where none can see.
I shall put no flowers at his head, Nor stone at his feet, For the mouth I loved so much Was bittersweet.
I shall go no more to his grave, For the woods are cold.
I shall gather as much of joy As my hands can hold.
I shall stay all day in the sun Where the wide winds blow, -- But oh, I shall cry at night When none will know.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

Understanding

 I understood the rest too well,
And all their thoughts have come to be
Clear as grey sea-weed in the swell
Of a sunny shallow sea.
But you I never understood, Your spirit's secret hides like gold Sunk in a Spanish galleon Ages ago in waters cold.
Written by Sara Teasdale | Create an image from this poem

Did You Never Know?

 Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me—
That your love would never lessen and never go?
You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted,
You were too young to know.
Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year— Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking, I know your secret, my dear, my dear.
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