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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Love Songs
+
+Author: Sara Teasdale
+
+Posting Date: July 21, 2008 [EBook #442]
+Release Date: February, 1996
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE SONGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by A. Light and L. Bowser.  For Gwenette.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Note on text:  Italicized stanzas are indented 5 spaces.  Two
+italicized lines are marked by asterisks (*).  Lines longer than 78
+characters are broken, and the continuation is indented two spaces.]
+
+[This etext was transcribed from a 1918 reprinting of the 1917 edition,
+which was the original.  It is interesting that some of those poems
+included from earlier volumes have been slightly changed in this book.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+
+
+By
+
+Sara Teasdale
+
+[American (Missouri & New York) poet, 1884-1933.]
+
+
+
+Author of "Rivers to the Sea", "Helen of Troy and Other Poems", Etc.
+
+
+
+
+  To E.
+
+
+     I have remembered beauty in the night,
+      Against black silences I waked to see
+      A shower of sunlight over Italy
+     And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
+     I have remembered music in the dark,
+      The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
+      And running water singing on the rocks
+     When once in English woods I heard a lark.
+
+     But all remembered beauty is no more
+      Than a vague prelude to the thought of you--
+      You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
+         Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
+     My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
+         And when I think of you, I am at rest.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Prefatory Note
+
+
+
+Beside new poems, this book contains lyrics taken from "Rivers to the
+Sea", "Helen of Troy and Other Poems", and one or two from an earlier
+volume.
+
+
+
+
+  Contents
+
+
+
+    I
+
+  Barter
+  Twilight
+  Night Song at Amalfi
+  The Look
+  A Winter Night
+  A Cry
+  Gifts
+  But Not to Me
+  Song at Capri
+  Child, Child
+  Love Me
+  Pierrot
+  Wild Asters
+  The Song for Colin
+  Four Winds
+  Debt
+  Faults
+  Buried Love
+  The Fountain
+  I Shall Not Care
+  After Parting
+  A Prayer
+  Spring Night
+  May Wind
+  Tides
+  After Love
+  New Love and Old
+  The Kiss
+  Swans
+  The River
+  November
+  Spring Rain
+  The Ghost
+  Summer Night, Riverside
+  Jewels
+
+
+    II
+
+  Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+     I.  Spirit's House
+    II.  Mastery
+   III.  Lessons
+    IV.  Wisdom
+     V.  In a Burying Ground
+    VI.  Wood Song
+   VII.  Refuge
+
+
+    III
+
+  The Flight
+  Dew
+  To-night
+  Ebb Tide
+  I Would Live in Your Love
+  Because
+  The Tree of Song
+  The Giver
+  April Song
+  The Wanderer
+  The Years
+  Enough
+  Come
+  Joy
+  Riches
+  Dusk in War Time
+  Peace
+  Moods
+  Houses of Dreams
+  Lights
+  "I Am Not Yours"
+  Doubt
+  The Wind
+  Morning
+  Other Men
+  Embers
+  Message
+  The Lamp
+
+
+    IV
+
+  A November Night
+
+
+
+
+  Love Songs
+
+
+    I
+
+
+
+  Barter
+
+
+  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 has loveliness to sell,
+   Music like a curve of gold,
+  Scent of pine trees in the rain,
+   Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
+  And for your spirit's still delight,
+  Holy thoughts that star the night.
+
+  Spend all you have for loveliness,
+   Buy it and never count the cost;
+  For one white singing hour of peace
+   Count many a year of strife well lost,
+  And for a breath of ecstasy
+  Give all you have been, or could be.
+
+
+
+
+  Twilight
+
+
+  Dreamily over the roofs
+   The cold spring rain is falling;
+  Out in the lonely tree
+   A bird is calling, calling.
+
+  Slowly over the earth
+   The wings of night are falling;
+  My heart like the bird in the tree
+   Is calling, calling, calling.
+
+
+
+
+  Night Song at Amalfi
+
+
+  I asked the heaven of stars
+   What I should give my love--
+  It answered me with silence,
+   Silence above.
+
+  I asked the darkened sea
+   Down where the fishers go--
+  It answered me with silence,
+   Silence below.
+
+  Oh, I could give him weeping,
+   Or I could give him song--
+  But how can I give silence,
+   My whole life long?
+
+
+
+
+  The Look
+
+
+  Strephon kissed me in the spring,
+   Robin in the fall,
+  But Colin only looked at me
+   And never kissed at all.
+
+  Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
+   Robin's lost in play,
+  But the kiss in Colin's eyes
+   Haunts me night and day.
+
+
+
+
+  A Winter Night
+
+
+  My window-pane is starred with frost,
+   The world is bitter cold to-night,
+  The moon is cruel, and the wind
+   Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
+
+  God pity all the homeless ones,
+   The beggars pacing to and fro,
+  God pity all the poor to-night
+   Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
+
+  My room is like a bit of June,
+   Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
+  But somewhere, like a homeless child,
+   My heart is crying in the cold.
+
+
+
+
+  A Cry
+
+
+  Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
+   And hands to make his hands rejoice,
+  But to my lover I must be
+   Only a voice.
+
+  Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
+   And lips whereon his lips can lie,
+  But I must be till I am dead
+   Only a cry.
+
+
+
+
+  Gifts
+
+
+  I gave my first love laughter,
+   I gave my second tears,
+  I gave my third love silence
+   Through all the years.
+
+  My first love gave me singing,
+   My second eyes to see,
+  But oh, it was my third love
+   Who gave my soul to me.
+
+
+
+
+  But Not to Me
+
+
+  The April night is still and sweet
+   With flowers on every tree;
+  Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
+      But not to me.
+
+  My peace is hidden in his breast
+   Where I shall never be;
+  Love comes to-night to all the rest,
+      But not to me.
+
+
+
+
+  Song at Capri
+
+
+  When beauty grows too great to bear
+   How shall I ease me of its ache,
+  For beauty more than bitterness
+   Makes the heart break.
+
+  Now while I watch the dreaming sea
+   With isles like flowers against her breast,
+  Only one voice in all the world
+   Could give me rest.
+
+
+
+
+  Child, Child
+
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  Love Me
+
+
+  Brown-thrush singing all day long
+   In the leaves above me,
+  Take my love this April song,
+   "Love me, love me, love me!"
+
+  When he harkens what you say,
+   Bid him, lest he miss me,
+  Leave his work or leave his play,
+   And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
+
+
+
+
+  Pierrot
+
+
+  Pierrot stands in the garden
+   Beneath a waning moon,
+  And on his lute he fashions
+   A fragile silver tune.
+
+  Pierrot plays in the garden,
+   He thinks he plays for me,
+  But I am quite forgotten
+   Under the cherry tree.
+
+  Pierrot plays in the garden,
+   And all the roses know
+  That Pierrot loves his music,--
+   But I love Pierrot.
+
+
+
+
+  Wild Asters
+
+
+  In the spring I asked the daisies
+   If his words were true,
+  And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
+   Always knew.
+
+  Now the fields are brown and barren,
+   Bitter autumn blows,
+  And of all the stupid asters
+   Not one knows.
+
+
+
+
+  The Song for Colin
+
+
+  I sang a song at dusking time
+   Beneath the evening star,
+  And Terence left his latest rhyme
+   To answer from afar.
+
+  Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
+   And sighed, "She sings for me."
+  But Colin slept a careless sleep
+   Beneath an apple tree.
+
+
+
+
+  Four Winds
+
+
+  "Four winds blowing through the sky,
+  You have seen poor maidens die,
+  Tell me then what I shall do
+  That my lover may be true."
+  Said the wind from out the south,
+  "Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"
+  And the wind from out the west,
+  "Wound the heart within his breast,"
+  And the wind from out the east,
+  "Send him empty from the feast,"
+  And the wind from out the north,
+  "In the tempest thrust him forth;
+  When thou art more cruel than he,
+  Then will Love be kind to thee."
+
+
+
+
+  Debt
+
+
+  What do I owe to you
+   Who loved me deep and long?
+  You never gave my spirit wings
+   Or gave my heart a song.
+
+  But oh, to him I loved,
+   Who loved me not at all,
+  I owe the open gate
+   That led through heaven's wall.
+
+
+
+
+  Faults
+
+
+  They came to tell your faults to me,
+  They named them over one by one;
+  I laughed aloud when they were done,
+  I knew them all so well before,--
+  Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
+  Your faults had made me love you more.
+
+
+
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  The Fountain
+
+
+  All through the deep blue night
+   The fountain sang alone;
+  It sang to the drowsy heart
+   Of the satyr carved in stone.
+
+  The fountain sang and sang,
+   But the satyr never stirred--
+  Only the great white moon
+   In the empty heaven heard.
+
+  The fountain sang and sang
+   While on the marble rim
+  The milk-white peacocks slept,
+   And their dreams were strange and dim.
+
+  Bright dew was on the grass,
+   And on the ilex, dew,
+  The dreamy milk-white birds
+   Were all a-glisten, too.
+
+  The fountain sang and sang
+   The things one cannot tell;
+  The dreaming peacocks stirred
+   And the gleaming dew-drops fell.
+
+
+
+
+  I Shall Not Care
+
+
+  When I am dead and over me bright April
+   Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
+  Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
+   I shall not care.
+
+  I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
+   When rain bends down the bough,
+  And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
+   Than you are now.
+
+
+
+
+  After Parting
+
+
+  Oh, I have sown my love so wide
+   That he will find it everywhere;
+  It will awake him in the night,
+   It will enfold him in the air.
+
+  I set my shadow in his sight
+   And I have winged it with desire,
+  That it may be a cloud by day,
+   And in the night a shaft of fire.
+
+
+
+
+  A Prayer
+
+
+  Until I lose my soul and lie
+   Blind to the beauty of the earth,
+  Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
+   Dumb in a storm of mirth;
+
+  Until my heart is quenched at length
+   And I have left the land of men,
+  Oh, let me love with all my strength
+   Careless if I am loved again.
+
+
+
+
+  Spring Night
+
+
+  The park is filled with night and fog,
+   The veils are drawn about the world,
+  The drowsy lights along the paths
+   Are dim and pearled.
+
+  Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
+   Gold and gleaming the misty lake,
+  The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
+   Glimmer and shake.
+
+  Oh, is it not enough to be
+  Here with this beauty over me?
+  My throat should ache with praise, and I
+  Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
+  O, beauty, are you not enough?
+  Why am I crying after love,
+  With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
+  To take earth's wonder with surprise?
+
+  Why have I put off my pride,
+  Why am I unsatisfied,--
+  I, for whom the pensive night
+  Binds her cloudy hair with light,--
+  I, for whom all beauty burns
+  Like incense in a million urns?
+  O beauty, are you not enough?
+  Why am I crying after love?
+
+
+
+
+  May Wind
+
+
+  I said, "I have shut my heart
+   As one shuts an open door,
+  That Love may starve therein
+   And trouble me no more."
+
+  But over the roofs there came
+   The wet new wind of May,
+  And a tune blew up from the curb
+   Where the street-pianos play.
+
+  My room was white with the sun
+   And Love cried out in me,
+  "I am strong, I will break your heart
+   Unless you set me free."
+
+
+
+
+  Tides
+
+
+  Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
+   Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
+  The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
+   High on the rocky shore.
+
+  But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
+   Lower the sea gulls soar,
+  And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
+   Are broken forevermore.
+
+
+
+
+  After Love
+
+
+  There is no magic any more,
+   We meet as other people do,
+  You work no miracle for me
+   Nor I for you.
+
+  You were the wind and I the sea--
+   There is no splendor any more,
+  I have grown listless as the pool
+   Beside the shore.
+
+  But though the pool is safe from storm
+   And from the tide has found surcease,
+  It grows more bitter than the sea,
+   For all its peace.
+
+
+
+
+  New Love and Old
+
+
+  In my heart the old love
+   Struggled with the new;
+  It was ghostly waking
+   All night through.
+
+  Dear things, kind things,
+   That my old love said,
+  Ranged themselves reproachfully
+   Round my bed.
+
+  But I could not heed them,
+   For I seemed to see
+  The eyes of my new love
+   Fixed on me.
+
+  Old love, old love,
+   How can I be true?
+  Shall I be faithless to myself
+   Or to you?
+
+
+
+
+  The Kiss
+
+
+  I hoped that he would love me,
+   And he has kissed my mouth,
+  But I am like a stricken bird
+   That cannot reach the south.
+
+  For though I know he loves me,
+   To-night my heart is sad;
+  His kiss was not so wonderful
+   As all the dreams I had.
+
+
+
+
+  Swans
+
+
+  Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
+   Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
+  The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
+   That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
+
+  We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
+   And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
+  How still you are--your gaze is on my face--
+   We watch the swans and never a word is said.
+
+
+
+
+  The River
+
+
+  I came from the sunny valleys
+   And sought for the open sea,
+  For I thought in its gray expanses
+   My peace would come to me.
+
+  I came at last to the ocean
+   And found it wild and black,
+  And I cried to the windless valleys,
+   "Be kind and take me back!"
+
+  But the thirsty tide ran inland,
+   And the salt waves drank of me,
+  And I who was fresh as the rainfall
+   Am bitter as the sea.
+
+
+
+
+  November
+
+
+  The world is tired, the year is old,
+   The fading leaves are glad to die,
+  The wind goes shivering with cold
+   Where the brown reeds are dry.
+
+  Our love is dying like the grass,
+   And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
+  Half glad to see our old love pass
+   Like leaves along the wind.
+
+
+
+
+  Spring Rain
+
+
+  I thought I had forgotten,
+   But it all came back again
+  To-night with the first spring thunder
+   In a rush of rain.
+
+  I remembered a darkened doorway
+   Where we stood while the storm swept by,
+  Thunder gripping the earth
+   And lightning scrawled on the sky.
+
+  The passing motor busses swayed,
+   For the street was a river of rain,
+  Lashed into little golden waves
+   In the lamp light's stain.
+
+  With the wild spring rain and thunder
+   My heart was wild and gay;
+  Your eyes said more to me that night
+   Than your lips would ever say. . . .
+
+  I thought I had forgotten,
+   But it all came back again
+  To-night with the first spring thunder
+   In a rush of rain.
+
+
+
+
+  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. . . .
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  Summer Night, Riverside
+
+
+  In the wild, soft summer darkness
+  How many and many a night we two together
+  Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
+  Wearing her lights like golden spangles
+  Glinting on black satin.
+  The rail along the curving pathway
+  Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
+  And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
+  Sheltered us,
+  While your kisses and the flowers,
+  Falling, falling,
+  Tangled my hair. . . .
+
+
+  The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky.
+
+
+  And now, far off
+  In the fragrant darkness
+  The tree is tremulous again with bloom,
+  For June comes back.
+
+  To-night what girl
+  Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
+  This year's blossoms, clinging in its coils?
+
+
+
+
+  Jewels
+
+
+  If I should see your eyes again,
+   I know how far their look would go--
+  Back to a morning in the park
+   With sapphire shadows on the snow.
+
+  Or back to oak trees in the spring
+   When you unloosed my hair and kissed
+  The head that lay against your knees
+   In the leaf shadow's amethyst.
+
+  And still another shining place
+   We would remember--how the dun
+  Wild mountain held us on its crest
+   One diamond morning white with sun.
+
+  But I will turn my eyes from you
+   As women turn to put away
+  The jewels they have worn at night
+   And cannot wear in sober day.
+
+
+
+
+    II
+
+  Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+
+
+  I.  Spirit's House
+
+
+  From naked stones of agony
+  I will build a house for me;
+  As a mason all alone
+  I will raise it, stone by stone,
+  And every stone where I have bled
+  Will show a sign of dusky red.
+  I have not gone the way in vain,
+  For I have good of all my pain;
+  My spirit's quiet house will be
+  Built of naked stones I trod
+  On roads where I lost sight of God.
+
+
+
+
+  II.  Mastery
+
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  III.  Lessons
+
+
+  Unless I learn to ask no help
+   From any other soul but mine,
+  To seek no strength in waving reeds
+   Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
+  Unless I learn to look at Grief
+   Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
+  And take from Pleasure fearlessly
+   Whatever gifts will make me wise--
+  Unless I learn these things on earth,
+  Why was I ever given birth?
+
+
+
+
+  IV.  Wisdom
+
+
+  When I have ceased to break my wings
+  Against the faultiness of things,
+  And learned that compromises wait
+  Behind each hardly opened gate,
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  V.  In a Burying Ground
+
+
+  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."
+
+
+
+
+  VI.  Wood Song
+
+
+  I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
+   Twirl three notes and make a star--
+  My heart that walked with bitterness
+   Came back from very far.
+
+  Three shining notes were all he had,
+   And yet they made a starry call--
+  I caught life back against my breast
+   And kissed it, scars and all.
+
+
+
+
+  VII.  Refuge
+
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+    III
+
+
+
+  The Flight
+
+
+  Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow,
+  Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow,
+  Let our flight be far in sun or blowing rain--
+  _But what if I heard my first love calling me again?_
+
+  Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam,
+  Take me far away to the hills that hide your home;
+  Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door--
+  _But what if I heard my first love calling me once more?_
+
+
+
+
+  Dew
+
+
+  As dew leaves the cobweb lightly
+   Threaded with stars,
+  Scattering jewels on the fence
+   And the pasture bars;
+  As dawn leaves the dry grass bright
+   And the tangled weeds
+  Bearing a rainbow gem
+   On each of their seeds;
+  So has your love, my lover,
+   Fresh as the dawn,
+  Made me a shining road
+   To travel on,
+  Set every common sight
+   Of tree or stone
+  Delicately alight
+   For me alone.
+
+
+
+
+  To-night
+
+
+  The moon is a curving flower of gold,
+   The sky is still and blue;
+  The moon was made for the sky to hold,
+   And I for you.
+
+  The moon is a flower without a stem,
+   The sky is luminous;
+  Eternity was made for them,
+   To-night for us.
+
+
+
+
+  Ebb Tide
+
+
+  When the long day goes by
+   And I do not see your face,
+  The old wild, restless sorrow
+   Steals from its hiding place.
+
+  My day is barren and broken,
+   Bereft of light and song,
+  A sea beach bleak and windy
+   That moans the whole day long.
+
+  To the empty beach at ebb tide,
+   Bare with its rocks and scars,
+  Come back like the sea with singing,
+   And light of a million stars.
+
+
+
+
+  I Would Live in Your Love
+
+
+  I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
+  Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;
+  I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
+  I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul
+    as it leads.
+
+
+
+
+  Because
+
+
+  Oh, because you never tried
+  To bow my will or break my pride,
+  And nothing of the cave-man made
+  You want to keep me half afraid,
+  Nor ever with a conquering air
+  You thought to draw me unaware--
+  Take me, for I love you more
+  Than I ever loved before.
+
+  And since the body's maidenhood
+  Alone were neither rare nor good
+  Unless with it I gave to you
+  A spirit still untrammeled, too,
+  Take my dreams and take my mind
+  That were masterless as wind;
+  And "Master!" I shall say to you
+  Since you never asked me to.
+
+
+
+
+  The Tree of Song
+
+
+  I sang my songs for the rest,
+   For you I am still;
+  The tree of my song is bare
+   On its shining hill.
+
+  For you came like a lordly wind,
+   And the leaves were whirled
+  Far as forgotten things
+   Past the rim of the world.
+
+  The tree of my song stands bare
+   Against the blue--
+  I gave my songs to the rest,
+   Myself to you.
+
+
+
+
+  The Giver
+
+
+  You bound strong sandals on my feet,
+   You gave me bread and wine,
+  And sent me under sun and stars,
+   For all the world was mine.
+
+  Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
+   You know not what you do;
+  For all my world is in your arms,
+   My sun and stars are you.
+
+
+
+
+  April Song
+
+
+  Willow, in your April gown
+   Delicate and gleaming,
+  Do you mind in years gone by
+   All my dreaming?
+
+  Spring was like a call to me
+   That I could not answer,
+  I was chained to loneliness,
+   I, the dancer.
+
+  Willow, twinkling in the sun,
+   Still your leaves and hear me,
+  I can answer spring at last,
+   Love is near me!
+
+
+
+
+  The Wanderer
+
+
+  I saw the sunset-colored sands,
+   The Nile like flowing fire between,
+   Where Rameses stares forth serene,
+  And Ammon's heavy temple stands.
+
+  I saw the rocks where long ago,
+   Above the sea that cries and breaks,
+   Swift Perseus with Medusa's snakes
+  Set free the maiden white like snow.
+
+  And many skies have covered me,
+   And many winds have blown me forth,
+   And I have loved the green, bright north,
+  And I have loved the cold, sweet sea.
+
+  But what to me are north and south,
+   And what the lure of many lands,
+   Since you have leaned to catch my hands
+  And lay a kiss upon my mouth.
+
+
+
+
+  The Years
+
+
+  To-night I close my eyes and see
+  A strange procession passing me--
+  The years before I saw your face
+  Go by me with a wistful grace;
+  They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
+  As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.
+
+  The years went by and never knew
+  That each one brought me nearer you;
+  Their path was narrow and apart
+  And yet it led me to your heart--
+  Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years,
+  That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.
+
+
+
+
+  Enough
+
+
+  It is enough for me by day
+   To walk the same bright earth with him;
+  Enough that over us by night
+   The same great roof of stars is dim.
+
+  I do not hope to bind the wind
+   Or set a fetter on the sea--
+  It is enough to feel his love
+   Blow by like music over me.
+
+
+
+
+  Come
+
+
+  Come, when the pale moon like a petal
+   Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,
+  Come with arms outstretched to take me,
+   Come with lips pursed up to cling.
+
+  Come, for life is a frail moth flying,
+   Caught in the web of the years that pass,
+  And soon we two, so warm and eager,
+   Will be as the gray stones in the grass.
+
+
+
+
+  Joy
+
+
+  I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
+   I will sing to the stars in the sky,
+  I love, I am loved, he is mine,
+   Now at last I can die!
+
+  I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
+   I have heart-fire and singing to give,
+  I can tread on the grass or the stars,
+   Now at last I can live!
+
+
+
+
+  Riches
+
+
+  I have no riches but my thoughts,
+   Yet these are wealth enough for me;
+  My thoughts of you are golden coins
+   Stamped in the mint of memory;
+
+  And I must spend them all in song,
+   For thoughts, as well as gold, must be
+  Left on the hither side of death
+   To gain their immortality.
+
+
+
+
+  Dusk in War Time
+
+
+  A half-hour more and you will lean
+   To gather me close in the old sweet way--
+  But oh, to the woman over the sea
+   Who will come at the close of day?
+
+  A half-hour more and I will hear
+   The key in the latch and the strong, quick tread--
+  But oh, the woman over the sea
+   Waiting at dusk for one who is dead!
+
+
+
+
+  Peace
+
+
+  Peace flows into me
+   As the tide to the pool by the shore;
+   It is mine forevermore,
+  It will not ebb like the sea.
+
+  I am the pool of blue
+   That worships the vivid sky;
+   My hopes were heaven-high,
+  They are all fulfilled in you.
+
+  I am the pool of gold
+   When sunset burns and dies--
+   You are my deepening skies;
+  Give me your stars to hold.
+
+
+
+
+  Moods
+
+
+  I am the still rain falling,
+   Too tired for singing mirth--
+  Oh, be the green fields calling,
+   Oh, be for me the earth!
+
+  I am the brown bird pining
+   To leave the nest and fly--
+  Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
+   Oh, be for me the sky!
+
+
+
+
+  Houses of Dreams
+
+
+  You took my empty dreams
+   And filled them every one
+  With tenderness and nobleness,
+   April and the sun.
+
+  The old empty dreams
+   Where my thoughts would throng
+  Are far too full of happiness
+   To even hold a song.
+
+  Oh, the empty dreams were dim
+   And the empty dreams were wide,
+  They were sweet and shadowy houses
+   Where my thoughts could hide.
+
+  But you took my dreams away
+   And you made them all come true--
+  My thoughts have no place now to play,
+   And nothing now to do.
+
+
+
+
+  Lights
+
+
+  When we come home at night and close the door,
+   Standing together in the shadowy room,
+   Safe in our own love and the gentle gloom,
+  Glad of familiar wall and chair and floor,
+
+  Glad to leave far below the clanging city;
+   Looking far downward to the glaring street
+   Gaudy with light, yet tired with many feet,
+  In both of us wells up a wordless pity;
+
+  Men have tried hard to put away the dark;
+   A million lighted windows brilliantly
+      Inlay with squares of gold the winter night,
+  But to us standing here there comes the stark
+      Sense of the lives behind each yellow light,
+   And not one wholly joyous, proud, or free.
+
+
+
+
+  "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.
+
+
+
+
+  Doubt
+
+
+  My soul lives in my body's house,
+   And you have both the house and her--
+  But sometimes she is less your own
+   Than a wild, gay adventurer;
+  A restless and an eager wraith,
+   How can I tell what she will do--
+  Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,
+   But what if my soul broke faith with you?
+
+
+
+
+  The Wind
+
+
+  A wind is blowing over my soul,
+   I hear it cry the whole night through--
+  Is there no peace for me on earth
+   Except with you?
+
+  Alas, the wind has made me wise,
+   Over my naked soul it blew,--
+  There is no peace for me on earth
+   Even with you.
+
+
+
+
+  Morning
+
+
+  I went out on an April morning
+   All alone, for my heart was high,
+  I was a child of the shining meadow,
+   I was a sister of the sky.
+
+  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.
+
+
+
+
+  Other Men
+
+
+  When I talk with other men
+   I always think of you--
+  Your words are keener than their words,
+   And they are gentler, too.
+
+  When I look at other men,
+   I wish your face were there,
+  With its gray eyes and dark skin
+   And tossed black hair.
+
+  When I think of other men,
+   Dreaming alone by day,
+  The thought of you like a strong wind
+   Blows the dreams away.
+
+
+
+
+  Embers
+
+
+  I said, "My youth is gone
+   Like a fire beaten out by the rain,
+  That will never sway and sing
+   Or play with the wind again."
+
+  I said, "It is no great sorrow
+   That quenched my youth in me,
+  But only little sorrows
+   Beating ceaselessly."
+
+  I thought my youth was gone,
+   But you returned--
+  Like a flame at the call of the wind
+   It leaped and burned;
+
+  Threw off its ashen cloak,
+   And gowned anew
+  Gave itself like a bride
+   Once more to you.
+
+
+
+
+  Message
+
+
+  I heard a cry in the night,
+   A thousand miles it came,
+  Sharp as a flash of light,
+   My name, my name!
+
+  It was your voice I heard,
+   You waked and loved me so--
+  I send you back this word,
+   I know, I know!
+
+
+
+
+  The Lamp
+
+
+  If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
+  When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
+  I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
+      Nor cry in terror.
+
+  If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
+  If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
+  Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
+      A lamp in darkness.
+
+
+
+
+    IV
+
+
+
+  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. . . .  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. . . .
+       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. . . .  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. . . .  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!" . . .  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. . . .
+
+       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. . . .
+
+       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. . . .  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. . . .
+       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!
+
+
+
+
+[End of Love Songs.]
+
+
+
+{As an item of interest to the reader, the following, which was at the
+end of this edition, is included.  Only the advertisement for the same
+author is included}.
+
+
+
+
+By the same author
+
+Rivers to the Sea
+
+
+"There is hardly another American woman-poet whose poetry is generally
+known and loved like that of Sara Teasdale.  'Rivers to the Sea', her
+latest volume of lyrics, possesses the delicacy of imagery, the inward
+illumination, the high vision that characterize the poetry that will
+endure the test of time."--'Review of Reviews'.
+
+"'Rivers to the Sea' is a book of sheer delight. . . .  Her touch turns
+everything to song."--Edward J. Wheeler, in 'Current Opinion'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale's lyrics have the clarity, the precision, the grace and
+fragrance of flowers."--Harriet Monroe, in 'Poetry'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale has a genius for the song, for the perfect lyric, in
+which the words seem to have fallen into place without art or
+effort."--Louis Untermeyer, in 'The Chicago Evening Post'.
+
+"'Rivers to the Sea' is the best book of pure lyrics that has appeared
+in English since A. E. Housman's 'A Shropshire Lad'."--William Marion
+Reedy, in 'The Mirror'.
+
+"'Rivers to the Sea' is the most beautiful book of pure lyrics that has
+come to my hand in years."--'Los Angeles Graphic'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale sings about love better than any other contemporary
+American poet."--'The Boston Transcript'.
+
+"'Rivers to the Sea' is the most charming volume of poetry that has
+appeared on either side of the Atlantic in a score of years."--'St.
+Louis Republic'.
+
+
+
+
+Sara Teasdale (1884-1933):
+
+Teasdale was born in St. Louis, Missouri, where she attended a school
+that was founded by the grandfather of another great poet from St.
+Louis--T. S. Eliot.  She later associated herself more with New York
+City.
+
+Her first book of poems was "Sonnets to Duse" (1907), [at least one poem
+in the current volume, "Faults", is from this book,] but "Helen of Troy"
+(1911) was the true launch of her career, followed by "Rivers to the Sea"
+(1915), "Love Songs" (1917), "Flame and Shadow" (1920) and more.  Her
+final volume, "Strange Victory", is considered by many to be predictive
+of her suicide in 1933.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE SONGS ***
+
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+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale**
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+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+By Sara Teasdale  [American (Missouri & New York) poet, 1884-1933.]
+
+
+
+
+
+[Note on text:  Italicized stanzas are indented 5 spaces.
+Two italicized lines are marked by asterisks (*).
+Lines longer than 78 characters are broken,
+and the continuation is indented two spaces.]
+
+[This etext was transcribed from a 1918 reprinting of the 1917 edition,
+which was the original.  It is interesting that some of those poems
+included from earlier volumes have been slightly changed in this book.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+
+By Sara Teasdale
+Author of "Rivers to the Sea", "Helen of Troy and Other Poems", Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+To E.
+
+
+
+     I have remembered beauty in the night,
+      Against black silences I waked to see
+      A shower of sunlight over Italy
+     And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
+     I have remembered music in the dark,
+      The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
+      And running water singing on the rocks
+     When once in English woods I heard a lark.
+
+     But all remembered beauty is no more
+      Than a vague prelude to the thought of you --
+      You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
+         Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
+     My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
+         And when I think of you, I am at rest.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Prefatory Note
+
+
+
+Beside new poems, this book contains lyrics taken from "Rivers to the Sea",
+"Helen of Troy and Other Poems", and one or two from an earlier volume.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+  I
+
+Barter
+Twilight
+Night Song at Amalfi
+The Look
+A Winter Night
+A Cry
+Gifts
+But Not to Me
+Song at Capri
+Child, Child
+Love Me
+Pierrot
+Wild Asters
+The Song for Colin
+Four Winds
+Debt
+Faults
+Buried Love
+The Fountain
+I Shall Not Care
+After Parting
+A Prayer
+Spring Night
+May Wind
+Tides
+After Love
+New Love and Old
+The Kiss
+Swans
+The River
+November
+Spring Rain
+The Ghost
+Summer Night, Riverside
+Jewels
+
+
+  II
+
+Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+I.  Spirit's House
+II.  Mastery
+III.  Lessons
+IV.  Wisdom
+V.  In a Burying Ground
+VI.  Wood Song
+VII.  Refuge
+
+
+  III
+
+The Flight
+Dew
+To-night
+Ebb Tide
+I Would Live in Your Love
+Because
+The Tree of Song
+The Giver
+April Song
+The Wanderer
+The Years
+Enough
+Come
+Joy
+Riches
+Dusk in War Time
+Peace
+Moods
+Houses of Dreams
+Lights
+"I Am Not Yours"
+Doubt
+The Wind
+Morning
+Other Men
+Embers
+Message
+The Lamp
+
+
+  IV
+
+A November Night
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Barter
+
+
+
+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 has loveliness to sell,
+ Music like a curve of gold,
+Scent of pine trees in the rain,
+ Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
+And for your spirit's still delight,
+Holy thoughts that star the night.
+
+Spend all you have for loveliness,
+ Buy it and never count the cost;
+For one white singing hour of peace
+ Count many a year of strife well lost,
+And for a breath of ecstasy
+Give all you have been, or could be.
+
+
+
+
+Twilight
+
+
+
+Dreamily over the roofs
+ The cold spring rain is falling;
+Out in the lonely tree
+ A bird is calling, calling.
+
+Slowly over the earth
+ The wings of night are falling;
+My heart like the bird in the tree
+ Is calling, calling, calling.
+
+
+
+
+Night Song at Amalfi
+
+
+
+I asked the heaven of stars
+ What I should give my love --
+It answered me with silence,
+ Silence above.
+
+I asked the darkened sea
+ Down where the fishers go --
+It answered me with silence,
+ Silence below.
+
+Oh, I could give him weeping,
+ Or I could give him song --
+But how can I give silence,
+ My whole life long?
+
+
+
+
+The Look
+
+
+
+Strephon kissed me in the spring,
+ Robin in the fall,
+But Colin only looked at me
+ And never kissed at all.
+
+Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
+ Robin's lost in play,
+But the kiss in Colin's eyes
+ Haunts me night and day.
+
+
+
+
+A Winter Night
+
+
+
+My window-pane is starred with frost,
+ The world is bitter cold to-night,
+The moon is cruel, and the wind
+ Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
+
+God pity all the homeless ones,
+ The beggars pacing to and fro,
+God pity all the poor to-night
+ Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
+
+My room is like a bit of June,
+ Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
+But somewhere, like a homeless child,
+ My heart is crying in the cold.
+
+
+
+
+A Cry
+
+
+
+Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
+ And hands to make his hands rejoice,
+But to my lover I must be
+ Only a voice.
+
+Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
+ And lips whereon his lips can lie,
+But I must be till I am dead
+ Only a cry.
+
+
+
+
+Gifts
+
+
+
+I gave my first love laughter,
+ I gave my second tears,
+I gave my third love silence
+ Through all the years.
+
+My first love gave me singing,
+ My second eyes to see,
+But oh, it was my third love
+ Who gave my soul to me.
+
+
+
+
+But Not to Me
+
+
+
+The April night is still and sweet
+ With flowers on every tree;
+Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
+    But not to me.
+
+My peace is hidden in his breast
+ Where I shall never be;
+Love comes to-night to all the rest,
+    But not to me.
+
+
+
+
+Song at Capri
+
+
+
+When beauty grows too great to bear
+ How shall I ease me of its ache,
+For beauty more than bitterness
+ Makes the heart break.
+
+Now while I watch the dreaming sea
+ With isles like flowers against her breast,
+Only one voice in all the world
+ Could give me rest.
+
+
+
+
+Child, Child
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Love Me
+
+
+
+Brown-thrush singing all day long
+ In the leaves above me,
+Take my love this April song,
+ "Love me, love me, love me!"
+
+When he harkens what you say,
+ Bid him, lest he miss me,
+Leave his work or leave his play,
+ And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
+
+
+
+
+Pierrot
+
+
+
+Pierrot stands in the garden
+ Beneath a waning moon,
+And on his lute he fashions
+ A fragile silver tune.
+
+Pierrot plays in the garden,
+ He thinks he plays for me,
+But I am quite forgotten
+ Under the cherry tree.
+
+Pierrot plays in the garden,
+ And all the roses know
+That Pierrot loves his music, --
+ But I love Pierrot.
+
+
+
+
+Wild Asters
+
+
+
+In the spring I asked the daisies
+ If his words were true,
+And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
+ Always knew.
+
+Now the fields are brown and barren,
+ Bitter autumn blows,
+And of all the stupid asters
+ Not one knows.
+
+
+
+
+The Song for Colin
+
+
+
+I sang a song at dusking time
+ Beneath the evening star,
+And Terence left his latest rhyme
+ To answer from afar.
+
+Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
+ And sighed, "She sings for me."
+But Colin slept a careless sleep
+ Beneath an apple tree.
+
+
+
+
+Four Winds
+
+
+
+"Four winds blowing through the sky,
+You have seen poor maidens die,
+Tell me then what I shall do
+That my lover may be true."
+Said the wind from out the south,
+"Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"
+And the wind from out the west,
+"Wound the heart within his breast,"
+And the wind from out the east,
+"Send him empty from the feast,"
+And the wind from out the north,
+"In the tempest thrust him forth;
+When thou art more cruel than he,
+Then will Love be kind to thee."
+
+
+
+
+Debt
+
+
+
+What do I owe to you
+ Who loved me deep and long?
+You never gave my spirit wings
+ Or gave my heart a song.
+
+But oh, to him I loved,
+ Who loved me not at all,
+I owe the open gate
+ That led through heaven's wall.
+
+
+
+
+Faults
+
+
+
+They came to tell your faults to me,
+They named them over one by one;
+I laughed aloud when they were done,
+I knew them all so well before, --
+Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
+Your faults had made me love you more.
+
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+The Fountain
+
+
+
+All through the deep blue night
+ The fountain sang alone;
+It sang to the drowsy heart
+ Of the satyr carved in stone.
+
+The fountain sang and sang,
+ But the satyr never stirred --
+Only the great white moon
+ In the empty heaven heard.
+
+The fountain sang and sang
+ While on the marble rim
+The milk-white peacocks slept,
+ And their dreams were strange and dim.
+
+Bright dew was on the grass,
+ And on the ilex, dew,
+The dreamy milk-white birds
+ Were all a-glisten, too.
+
+The fountain sang and sang
+ The things one cannot tell;
+The dreaming peacocks stirred
+ And the gleaming dew-drops fell.
+
+
+
+
+I Shall Not Care
+
+
+
+When I am dead and over me bright April
+ Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
+Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
+ I shall not care.
+
+I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
+ When rain bends down the bough,
+And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
+ Than you are now.
+
+
+
+
+After Parting
+
+
+
+Oh, I have sown my love so wide
+ That he will find it everywhere;
+It will awake him in the night,
+ It will enfold him in the air.
+
+I set my shadow in his sight
+ And I have winged it with desire,
+That it may be a cloud by day,
+ And in the night a shaft of fire.
+
+
+
+
+A Prayer
+
+
+
+Until I lose my soul and lie
+ Blind to the beauty of the earth,
+Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
+ Dumb in a storm of mirth;
+
+Until my heart is quenched at length
+ And I have left the land of men,
+Oh, let me love with all my strength
+ Careless if I am loved again.
+
+
+
+
+Spring Night
+
+
+
+The park is filled with night and fog,
+ The veils are drawn about the world,
+The drowsy lights along the paths
+ Are dim and pearled.
+
+Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
+ Gold and gleaming the misty lake,
+The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
+ Glimmer and shake.
+
+Oh, is it not enough to be
+Here with this beauty over me?
+My throat should ache with praise, and I
+Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
+O, beauty, are you not enough?
+Why am I crying after love,
+With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
+To take earth's wonder with surprise?
+
+Why have I put off my pride,
+Why am I unsatisfied, --
+I, for whom the pensive night
+Binds her cloudy hair with light, --
+I, for whom all beauty burns
+Like incense in a million urns?
+O beauty, are you not enough?
+Why am I crying after love?
+
+
+
+
+May Wind
+
+
+
+I said, "I have shut my heart
+ As one shuts an open door,
+That Love may starve therein
+ And trouble me no more."
+
+But over the roofs there came
+ The wet new wind of May,
+And a tune blew up from the curb
+ Where the street-pianos play.
+
+My room was white with the sun
+ And Love cried out in me,
+"I am strong, I will break your heart
+ Unless you set me free."
+
+
+
+
+Tides
+
+
+
+Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
+ Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
+The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
+ High on the rocky shore.
+
+But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
+ Lower the sea gulls soar,
+And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
+ Are broken forevermore.
+
+
+
+
+After Love
+
+
+
+There is no magic any more,
+ We meet as other people do,
+You work no miracle for me
+ Nor I for you.
+
+You were the wind and I the sea --
+ There is no splendor any more,
+I have grown listless as the pool
+ Beside the shore.
+
+But though the pool is safe from storm
+ And from the tide has found surcease,
+It grows more bitter than the sea,
+ For all its peace.
+
+
+
+
+New Love and Old
+
+
+
+In my heart the old love
+ Struggled with the new;
+It was ghostly waking
+ All night through.
+
+Dear things, kind things,
+ That my old love said,
+Ranged themselves reproachfully
+ Round my bed.
+
+But I could not heed them,
+ For I seemed to see
+The eyes of my new love
+ Fixed on me.
+
+Old love, old love,
+ How can I be true?
+Shall I be faithless to myself
+ Or to you?
+
+
+
+
+The Kiss
+
+
+
+I hoped that he would love me,
+ And he has kissed my mouth,
+But I am like a stricken bird
+ That cannot reach the south.
+
+For though I know he loves me,
+ To-night my heart is sad;
+His kiss was not so wonderful
+ As all the dreams I had.
+
+
+
+
+Swans
+
+
+
+Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
+ Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
+The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
+ That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
+
+We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
+ And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
+How still you are -- your gaze is on my face --
+ We watch the swans and never a word is said.
+
+
+
+
+The River
+
+
+
+I came from the sunny valleys
+ And sought for the open sea,
+For I thought in its gray expanses
+ My peace would come to me.
+
+I came at last to the ocean
+ And found it wild and black,
+And I cried to the windless valleys,
+ "Be kind and take me back!"
+
+But the thirsty tide ran inland,
+ And the salt waves drank of me,
+And I who was fresh as the rainfall
+ Am bitter as the sea.
+
+
+
+
+November
+
+
+
+The world is tired, the year is old,
+ The fading leaves are glad to die,
+The wind goes shivering with cold
+ Where the brown reeds are dry.
+
+Our love is dying like the grass,
+ And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
+Half glad to see our old love pass
+ Like leaves along the wind.
+
+
+
+
+Spring Rain
+
+
+
+I thought I had forgotten,
+ But it all came back again
+To-night with the first spring thunder
+ In a rush of rain.
+
+I remembered a darkened doorway
+ Where we stood while the storm swept by,
+Thunder gripping the earth
+ And lightning scrawled on the sky.
+
+The passing motor busses swayed,
+ For the street was a river of rain,
+Lashed into little golden waves
+ In the lamp light's stain.
+
+With the wild spring rain and thunder
+ My heart was wild and gay;
+Your eyes said more to me that night
+ Than your lips would ever say. . . .
+
+I thought I had forgotten,
+ But it all came back again
+To-night with the first spring thunder
+ In a rush of rain.
+
+
+
+
+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. . . .
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Summer Night, Riverside
+
+
+
+In the wild, soft summer darkness
+How many and many a night we two together
+Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
+Wearing her lights like golden spangles
+Glinting on black satin.
+The rail along the curving pathway
+Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
+And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
+Sheltered us,
+While your kisses and the flowers,
+Falling, falling,
+Tangled my hair. . . .
+
+
+The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky.
+
+
+And now, far off
+In the fragrant darkness
+The tree is tremulous again with bloom,
+For June comes back.
+
+To-night what girl
+Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
+This year's blossoms, clinging in its coils?
+
+
+
+
+Jewels
+
+
+
+If I should see your eyes again,
+ I know how far their look would go --
+Back to a morning in the park
+ With sapphire shadows on the snow.
+
+Or back to oak trees in the spring
+ When you unloosed my hair and kissed
+The head that lay against your knees
+ In the leaf shadow's amethyst.
+
+And still another shining place
+ We would remember -- how the dun
+Wild mountain held us on its crest
+ One diamond morning white with sun.
+
+But I will turn my eyes from you
+ As women turn to put away
+The jewels they have worn at night
+ And cannot wear in sober day.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  II
+
+Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+
+
+
+
+
+I.  Spirit's House
+
+
+
+From naked stones of agony
+I will build a house for me;
+As a mason all alone
+I will raise it, stone by stone,
+And every stone where I have bled
+Will show a sign of dusky red.
+I have not gone the way in vain,
+For I have good of all my pain;
+My spirit's quiet house will be
+Built of naked stones I trod
+On roads where I lost sight of God.
+
+
+
+
+II.  Mastery
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+III.  Lessons
+
+
+
+Unless I learn to ask no help
+ From any other soul but mine,
+To seek no strength in waving reeds
+ Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
+Unless I learn to look at Grief
+ Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
+And take from Pleasure fearlessly
+ Whatever gifts will make me wise --
+Unless I learn these things on earth,
+Why was I ever given birth?
+
+
+
+
+IV.  Wisdom
+
+
+
+When I have ceased to break my wings
+Against the faultiness of things,
+And learned that compromises wait
+Behind each hardly opened gate,
+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.
+
+
+
+
+V.  In a Burying Ground
+
+
+
+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."
+
+
+
+
+VI.  Wood Song
+
+
+
+I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
+ Twirl three notes and make a star --
+My heart that walked with bitterness
+ Came back from very far.
+
+Three shining notes were all he had,
+ And yet they made a starry call --
+I caught life back against my breast
+ And kissed it, scars and all.
+
+
+
+
+VII.  Refuge
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  III
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Flight
+
+
+
+Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow,
+Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow,
+Let our flight be far in sun or blowing rain --
+*But what if I heard my first love calling me again?*
+
+Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam,
+Take me far away to the hills that hide your home;
+Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door --
+*But what if I heard my first love calling me once more?*
+
+
+
+
+Dew
+
+
+
+As dew leaves the cobweb lightly
+ Threaded with stars,
+Scattering jewels on the fence
+ And the pasture bars;
+As dawn leaves the dry grass bright
+ And the tangled weeds
+Bearing a rainbow gem
+ On each of their seeds;
+So has your love, my lover,
+ Fresh as the dawn,
+Made me a shining road
+ To travel on,
+Set every common sight
+ Of tree or stone
+Delicately alight
+ For me alone.
+
+
+
+
+To-night
+
+
+
+The moon is a curving flower of gold,
+ The sky is still and blue;
+The moon was made for the sky to hold,
+ And I for you.
+
+The moon is a flower without a stem,
+ The sky is luminous;
+Eternity was made for them,
+ To-night for us.
+
+
+
+
+Ebb Tide
+
+
+
+When the long day goes by
+ And I do not see your face,
+The old wild, restless sorrow
+ Steals from its hiding place.
+
+My day is barren and broken,
+ Bereft of light and song,
+A sea beach bleak and windy
+ That moans the whole day long.
+
+To the empty beach at ebb tide,
+ Bare with its rocks and scars,
+Come back like the sea with singing,
+ And light of a million stars.
+
+
+
+
+I Would Live in Your Love
+
+
+
+I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
+Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;
+I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
+I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul
+  as it leads.
+
+
+
+
+Because
+
+
+
+Oh, because you never tried
+To bow my will or break my pride,
+And nothing of the cave-man made
+You want to keep me half afraid,
+Nor ever with a conquering air
+You thought to draw me unaware --
+Take me, for I love you more
+Than I ever loved before.
+
+And since the body's maidenhood
+Alone were neither rare nor good
+Unless with it I gave to you
+A spirit still untrammeled, too,
+Take my dreams and take my mind
+That were masterless as wind;
+And "Master!" I shall say to you
+Since you never asked me to.
+
+
+
+
+The Tree of Song
+
+
+
+I sang my songs for the rest,
+ For you I am still;
+The tree of my song is bare
+ On its shining hill.
+
+For you came like a lordly wind,
+ And the leaves were whirled
+Far as forgotten things
+ Past the rim of the world.
+
+The tree of my song stands bare
+ Against the blue --
+I gave my songs to the rest,
+ Myself to you.
+
+
+
+
+The Giver
+
+
+
+You bound strong sandals on my feet,
+ You gave me bread and wine,
+And sent me under sun and stars,
+ For all the world was mine.
+
+Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
+ You know not what you do;
+For all my world is in your arms,
+ My sun and stars are you.
+
+
+
+
+April Song
+
+
+
+Willow, in your April gown
+ Delicate and gleaming,
+Do you mind in years gone by
+ All my dreaming?
+
+Spring was like a call to me
+ That I could not answer,
+I was chained to loneliness,
+ I, the dancer.
+
+Willow, twinkling in the sun,
+ Still your leaves and hear me,
+I can answer spring at last,
+ Love is near me!
+
+
+
+
+The Wanderer
+
+
+
+I saw the sunset-colored sands,
+ The Nile like flowing fire between,
+ Where Rameses stares forth serene,
+And Ammon's heavy temple stands.
+
+I saw the rocks where long ago,
+ Above the sea that cries and breaks,
+ Swift Perseus with Medusa's snakes
+Set free the maiden white like snow.
+
+And many skies have covered me,
+ And many winds have blown me forth,
+ And I have loved the green, bright north,
+And I have loved the cold, sweet sea.
+
+But what to me are north and south,
+ And what the lure of many lands,
+ Since you have leaned to catch my hands
+And lay a kiss upon my mouth.
+
+
+
+
+The Years
+
+
+
+To-night I close my eyes and see
+A strange procession passing me --
+The years before I saw your face
+Go by me with a wistful grace;
+They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
+As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.
+
+The years went by and never knew
+That each one brought me nearer you;
+Their path was narrow and apart
+And yet it led me to your heart --
+Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years,
+That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.
+
+
+
+
+Enough
+
+
+
+It is enough for me by day
+ To walk the same bright earth with him;
+Enough that over us by night
+ The same great roof of stars is dim.
+
+I do not hope to bind the wind
+ Or set a fetter on the sea --
+It is enough to feel his love
+ Blow by like music over me.
+
+
+
+
+Come
+
+
+
+Come, when the pale moon like a petal
+ Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,
+Come with arms outstretched to take me,
+ Come with lips pursed up to cling.
+
+Come, for life is a frail moth flying,
+ Caught in the web of the years that pass,
+And soon we two, so warm and eager,
+ Will be as the gray stones in the grass.
+
+
+
+
+Joy
+
+
+
+I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
+ I will sing to the stars in the sky,
+I love, I am loved, he is mine,
+ Now at last I can die!
+
+I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
+ I have heart-fire and singing to give,
+I can tread on the grass or the stars,
+ Now at last I can live!
+
+
+
+
+Riches
+
+
+
+I have no riches but my thoughts,
+ Yet these are wealth enough for me;
+My thoughts of you are golden coins
+ Stamped in the mint of memory;
+
+And I must spend them all in song,
+ For thoughts, as well as gold, must be
+Left on the hither side of death
+ To gain their immortality.
+
+
+
+
+Dusk in War Time
+
+
+
+A half-hour more and you will lean
+ To gather me close in the old sweet way --
+But oh, to the woman over the sea
+ Who will come at the close of day?
+
+A half-hour more and I will hear
+ The key in the latch and the strong, quick tread --
+But oh, the woman over the sea
+ Waiting at dusk for one who is dead!
+
+
+
+
+Peace
+
+
+
+Peace flows into me
+ As the tide to the pool by the shore;
+ It is mine forevermore,
+It will not ebb like the sea.
+
+I am the pool of blue
+ That worships the vivid sky;
+ My hopes were heaven-high,
+They are all fulfilled in you.
+
+I am the pool of gold
+ When sunset burns and dies --
+ You are my deepening skies;
+Give me your stars to hold.
+
+
+
+
+Moods
+
+
+
+I am the still rain falling,
+ Too tired for singing mirth --
+Oh, be the green fields calling,
+ Oh, be for me the earth!
+
+I am the brown bird pining
+ To leave the nest and fly --
+Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
+ Oh, be for me the sky!
+
+
+
+
+Houses of Dreams
+
+
+
+You took my empty dreams
+ And filled them every one
+With tenderness and nobleness,
+ April and the sun.
+
+The old empty dreams
+ Where my thoughts would throng
+Are far too full of happiness
+ To even hold a song.
+
+Oh, the empty dreams were dim
+ And the empty dreams were wide,
+They were sweet and shadowy houses
+ Where my thoughts could hide.
+
+But you took my dreams away
+ And you made them all come true --
+My thoughts have no place now to play,
+ And nothing now to do.
+
+
+
+
+Lights
+
+
+
+When we come home at night and close the door,
+ Standing together in the shadowy room,
+ Safe in our own love and the gentle gloom,
+Glad of familiar wall and chair and floor,
+
+Glad to leave far below the clanging city;
+ Looking far downward to the glaring street
+ Gaudy with light, yet tired with many feet,
+In both of us wells up a wordless pity;
+
+Men have tried hard to put away the dark;
+ A million lighted windows brilliantly
+    Inlay with squares of gold the winter night,
+But to us standing here there comes the stark
+    Sense of the lives behind each yellow light,
+ And not one wholly joyous, proud, or free.
+
+
+
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+Doubt
+
+
+
+My soul lives in my body's house,
+ And you have both the house and her --
+But sometimes she is less your own
+ Than a wild, gay adventurer;
+A restless and an eager wraith,
+ How can I tell what she will do --
+Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,
+ But what if my soul broke faith with you?
+
+
+
+
+The Wind
+
+
+
+A wind is blowing over my soul,
+ I hear it cry the whole night through --
+Is there no peace for me on earth
+ Except with you?
+
+Alas, the wind has made me wise,
+ Over my naked soul it blew, --
+There is no peace for me on earth
+ Even with you.
+
+
+
+
+Morning
+
+
+
+I went out on an April morning
+ All alone, for my heart was high,
+I was a child of the shining meadow,
+ I was a sister of the sky.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Other Men
+
+
+
+When I talk with other men
+ I always think of you --
+Your words are keener than their words,
+ And they are gentler, too.
+
+When I look at other men,
+ I wish your face were there,
+With its gray eyes and dark skin
+ And tossed black hair.
+
+When I think of other men,
+ Dreaming alone by day,
+The thought of you like a strong wind
+ Blows the dreams away.
+
+
+
+
+Embers
+
+
+
+I said, "My youth is gone
+ Like a fire beaten out by the rain,
+That will never sway and sing
+ Or play with the wind again."
+
+I said, "It is no great sorrow
+ That quenched my youth in me,
+But only little sorrows
+ Beating ceaselessly."
+
+I thought my youth was gone,
+ But you returned --
+Like a flame at the call of the wind
+ It leaped and burned;
+
+Threw off its ashen cloak,
+ And gowned anew
+Gave itself like a bride
+ Once more to you.
+
+
+
+
+Message
+
+
+
+I heard a cry in the night,
+ A thousand miles it came,
+Sharp as a flash of light,
+ My name, my name!
+
+It was your voice I heard,
+ You waked and loved me so --
+I send you back this word,
+ I know, I know!
+
+
+
+
+The Lamp
+
+
+
+If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
+When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
+I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
+    Nor cry in terror.
+
+If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
+If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
+Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
+    A lamp in darkness.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  IV
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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. . . .  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. . . .
+     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. . . .  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. . . .  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!" . . .  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. . . .
+
+     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. . . .
+
+     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. . . .  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. . . .
+     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!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[End of Love Songs.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+{As an item of interest to the reader, the following,
+which was at the end of this edition, is included.
+Only the advertisement for the same author is included}.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+By the same author
+
+Rivers to the Sea
+
+
+
+"There is hardly another American woman-poet whose poetry is generally
+known and loved like that of Sara Teasdale.  `Rivers to the Sea',
+her latest volume of lyrics, possesses the delicacy of imagery,
+the inward illumination, the high vision that characterize the poetry
+that will endure the test of time." -- `Review of Reviews'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is a book of sheer delight. . . .  Her touch
+turns everything to song." -- Edward J. Wheeler, in `Current Opinion'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale's lyrics have the clarity, the precision,
+the grace and fragrance of flowers." -- Harriet Monroe, in `Poetry'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale has a genius for the song, for the perfect lyric,
+in which the words seem to have fallen into place without art or effort."
+-- Louis Untermeyer, in `The Chicago Evening Post'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the best book of pure lyrics
+that has appeared in English since A. E. Housman's `A Shropshire Lad'."
+-- William Marion Reedy, in `The Mirror'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the most beautiful book of pure lyrics
+that has come to my hand in years." -- `Los Angeles Graphic'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale sings about love better than any other contemporary
+American poet." -- `The Boston Transcript'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the most charming volume of poetry that has appeared
+on either side of the Atlantic in a score of years." -- `St. Louis Republic'.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Sara Teasdale (1884-1933):
+
+Teasdale was born in St. Louis, Missouri, where she attended a school
+that was founded by the grandfather of another great poet from St. Louis --
+T. S. Eliot.  She later associated herself more with New York City.
+Her first book of poems was "Sonnets to Duse" (1907),
+[at least one poem in the current volume, "Faults", is from this book,]
+but "Helen of Troy" (1911) was the true launch of her career,
+followed by "Rivers to the Sea" (1915), "Love Songs" (1917),
+"Flame and Shadow" (1920) and more.  Her final volume, "Strange Victory",
+is considered by many to be predictive of her suicide in 1933.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale
+
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+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale**
+
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+Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale
+
+February, 1995  [Etext #442]
+
+
+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale**
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+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+By Sara Teasdale  [American (Missouri & New York) poet, 1884-1933.]
+
+
+
+
+
+[Note on text:  Italicized stanzas are indented 5 spaces.
+Two italicized lines are marked by asterisks (*).
+Lines longer than 78 characters are broken,
+and the continuation is indented two spaces.]
+
+[This etext was transcribed from a 1918 reprinting of the 1917 edition,
+which was the original.  It is interesting that some of those poems
+included from earlier volumes have been slightly changed in this book.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+
+By Sara Teasdale
+Author of "Rivers to the Sea", "Helen of Troy and Other Poems", Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+To E.
+
+
+
+     I have remembered beauty in the night,
+      Against black silences I waked to see
+      A shower of sunlight over Italy
+     And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
+     I have remembered music in the dark,
+      The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
+      And running water singing on the rocks
+     When once in English woods I heard a lark.
+
+     But all remembered beauty is no more
+      Than a vague prelude to the thought of you --
+      You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
+         Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
+     My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
+         And when I think of you, I am at rest.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Prefatory Note
+
+
+
+Beside new poems, this book contains lyrics taken from "Rivers to the Sea",
+"Helen of Troy and Other Poems", and one or two from an earlier volume.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+  I
+
+Barter
+Twilight
+Night Song at Amalfi
+The Look
+A Winter Night
+A Cry
+Gifts
+But Not to Me
+Song at Capri
+Child, Child
+Love Me
+Pierrot
+Wild Asters
+The Song for Colin
+Four Winds
+Debt
+Faults
+Buried Love
+The Fountain
+I Shall Not Care
+After Parting
+A Prayer
+Spring Night
+May Wind
+Tides
+After Love
+New Love and Old
+The Kiss
+Swans
+The River
+November
+Spring Rain
+The Ghost
+Summer Night, Riverside
+Jewels
+
+
+  II
+
+Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+I.  Spirit's House
+II.  Mastery
+III.  Lessons
+IV.  Wisdom
+V.  In a Burying Ground
+VI.  Wood Song
+VII.  Refuge
+
+
+  III
+
+The Flight
+Dew
+To-night
+Ebb Tide
+I Would Live in Your Love
+Because
+The Tree of Song
+The Giver
+April Song
+The Wanderer
+The Years
+Enough
+Come
+Joy
+Riches
+Dusk in War Time
+Peace
+Moods
+Houses of Dreams
+Lights
+"I Am Not Yours"
+Doubt
+The Wind
+Morning
+Other Men
+Embers
+Message
+The Lamp
+
+
+  IV
+
+A November Night
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Love Songs
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Barter
+
+
+
+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 has loveliness to sell,
+ Music like a curve of gold,
+Scent of pine trees in the rain,
+ Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
+And for your spirit's still delight,
+Holy thoughts that star the night.
+
+Spend all you have for loveliness,
+ Buy it and never count the cost;
+For one white singing hour of peace
+ Count many a year of strife well lost,
+And for a breath of ecstasy
+Give all you have been, or could be.
+
+
+
+
+Twilight
+
+
+
+Dreamily over the roofs
+ The cold spring rain is falling;
+Out in the lonely tree
+ A bird is calling, calling.
+
+Slowly over the earth
+ The wings of night are falling;
+My heart like the bird in the tree
+ Is calling, calling, calling.
+
+
+
+
+Night Song at Amalfi
+
+
+
+I asked the heaven of stars
+ What I should give my love --
+It answered me with silence,
+ Silence above.
+
+I asked the darkened sea
+ Down where the fishers go --
+It answered me with silence,
+ Silence below.
+
+Oh, I could give him weeping,
+ Or I could give him song --
+But how can I give silence,
+ My whole life long?
+
+
+
+
+The Look
+
+
+
+Strephon kissed me in the spring,
+ Robin in the fall,
+But Colin only looked at me
+ And never kissed at all.
+
+Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
+ Robin's lost in play,
+But the kiss in Colin's eyes
+ Haunts me night and day.
+
+
+
+
+A Winter Night
+
+
+
+My window-pane is starred with frost,
+ The world is bitter cold to-night,
+The moon is cruel, and the wind
+ Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
+
+God pity all the homeless ones,
+ The beggars pacing to and fro,
+God pity all the poor to-night
+ Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
+
+My room is like a bit of June,
+ Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
+But somewhere, like a homeless child,
+ My heart is crying in the cold.
+
+
+
+
+A Cry
+
+
+
+Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
+ And hands to make his hands rejoice,
+But to my lover I must be
+ Only a voice.
+
+Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
+ And lips whereon his lips can lie,
+But I must be till I am dead
+ Only a cry.
+
+
+
+
+Gifts
+
+
+
+I gave my first love laughter,
+ I gave my second tears,
+I gave my third love silence
+ Through all the years.
+
+My first love gave me singing,
+ My second eyes to see,
+But oh, it was my third love
+ Who gave my soul to me.
+
+
+
+
+But Not to Me
+
+
+
+The April night is still and sweet
+ With flowers on every tree;
+Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
+    But not to me.
+
+My peace is hidden in his breast
+ Where I shall never be;
+Love comes to-night to all the rest,
+    But not to me.
+
+
+
+
+Song at Capri
+
+
+
+When beauty grows too great to bear
+ How shall I ease me of its ache,
+For beauty more than bitterness
+ Makes the heart break.
+
+Now while I watch the dreaming sea
+ With isles like flowers against her breast,
+Only one voice in all the world
+ Could give me rest.
+
+
+
+
+Child, Child
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Love Me
+
+
+
+Brown-thrush singing all day long
+ In the leaves above me,
+Take my love this April song,
+ "Love me, love me, love me!"
+
+When he harkens what you say,
+ Bid him, lest he miss me,
+Leave his work or leave his play,
+ And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
+
+
+
+
+Pierrot
+
+
+
+Pierrot stands in the garden
+ Beneath a waning moon,
+And on his lute he fashions
+ A fragile silver tune.
+
+Pierrot plays in the garden,
+ He thinks he plays for me,
+But I am quite forgotten
+ Under the cherry tree.
+
+Pierrot plays in the garden,
+ And all the roses know
+That Pierrot loves his music, --
+ But I love Pierrot.
+
+
+
+
+Wild Asters
+
+
+
+In the spring I asked the daisies
+ If his words were true,
+And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
+ Always knew.
+
+Now the fields are brown and barren,
+ Bitter autumn blows,
+And of all the stupid asters
+ Not one knows.
+
+
+
+
+The Song for Colin
+
+
+
+I sang a song at dusking time
+ Beneath the evening star,
+And Terence left his latest rhyme
+ To answer from afar.
+
+Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
+ And sighed, "She sings for me."
+But Colin slept a careless sleep
+ Beneath an apple tree.
+
+
+
+
+Four Winds
+
+
+
+"Four winds blowing through the sky,
+You have seen poor maidens die,
+Tell me then what I shall do
+That my lover may be true."
+Said the wind from out the south,
+"Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"
+And the wind from out the west,
+"Wound the heart within his breast,"
+And the wind from out the east,
+"Send him empty from the feast,"
+And the wind from out the north,
+"In the tempest thrust him forth;
+When thou art more cruel than he,
+Then will Love be kind to thee."
+
+
+
+
+Debt
+
+
+
+What do I owe to you
+ Who loved me deep and long?
+You never gave my spirit wings
+ Or gave my heart a song.
+
+But oh, to him I loved,
+ Who loved me not at all,
+I owe the open gate
+ That led through heaven's wall.
+
+
+
+
+Faults
+
+
+
+They came to tell your faults to me,
+They named them over one by one;
+I laughed aloud when they were done,
+I knew them all so well before, --
+Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
+Your faults had made me love you more.
+
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+The Fountain
+
+
+
+All through the deep blue night
+ The fountain sang alone;
+It sang to the drowsy heart
+ Of the satyr carved in stone.
+
+The fountain sang and sang,
+ But the satyr never stirred --
+Only the great white moon
+ In the empty heaven heard.
+
+The fountain sang and sang
+ While on the marble rim
+The milk-white peacocks slept,
+ And their dreams were strange and dim.
+
+Bright dew was on the grass,
+ And on the ilex, dew,
+The dreamy milk-white birds
+ Were all a-glisten, too.
+
+The fountain sang and sang
+ The things one cannot tell;
+The dreaming peacocks stirred
+ And the gleaming dew-drops fell.
+
+
+
+
+I Shall Not Care
+
+
+
+When I am dead and over me bright April
+ Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
+Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
+ I shall not care.
+
+I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
+ When rain bends down the bough,
+And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
+ Than you are now.
+
+
+
+
+After Parting
+
+
+
+Oh, I have sown my love so wide
+ That he will find it everywhere;
+It will awake him in the night,
+ It will enfold him in the air.
+
+I set my shadow in his sight
+ And I have winged it with desire,
+That it may be a cloud by day,
+ And in the night a shaft of fire.
+
+
+
+
+A Prayer
+
+
+
+Until I lose my soul and lie
+ Blind to the beauty of the earth,
+Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
+ Dumb in a storm of mirth;
+
+Until my heart is quenched at length
+ And I have left the land of men,
+Oh, let me love with all my strength
+ Careless if I am loved again.
+
+
+
+
+Spring Night
+
+
+
+The park is filled with night and fog,
+ The veils are drawn about the world,
+The drowsy lights along the paths
+ Are dim and pearled.
+
+Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
+ Gold and gleaming the misty lake,
+The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
+ Glimmer and shake.
+
+Oh, is it not enough to be
+Here with this beauty over me?
+My throat should ache with praise, and I
+Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
+O, beauty, are you not enough?
+Why am I crying after love,
+With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
+To take earth's wonder with surprise?
+
+Why have I put off my pride,
+Why am I unsatisfied, --
+I, for whom the pensive night
+Binds her cloudy hair with light, --
+I, for whom all beauty burns
+Like incense in a million urns?
+O beauty, are you not enough?
+Why am I crying after love?
+
+
+
+
+May Wind
+
+
+
+I said, "I have shut my heart
+ As one shuts an open door,
+That Love may starve therein
+ And trouble me no more."
+
+But over the roofs there came
+ The wet new wind of May,
+And a tune blew up from the curb
+ Where the street-pianos play.
+
+My room was white with the sun
+ And Love cried out in me,
+"I am strong, I will break your heart
+ Unless you set me free."
+
+
+
+
+Tides
+
+
+
+Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
+ Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
+The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
+ High on the rocky shore.
+
+But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
+ Lower the sea gulls soar,
+And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
+ Are broken forevermore.
+
+
+
+
+After Love
+
+
+
+There is no magic any more,
+ We meet as other people do,
+You work no miracle for me
+ Nor I for you.
+
+You were the wind and I the sea --
+ There is no splendor any more,
+I have grown listless as the pool
+ Beside the shore.
+
+But though the pool is safe from storm
+ And from the tide has found surcease,
+It grows more bitter than the sea,
+ For all its peace.
+
+
+
+
+New Love and Old
+
+
+
+In my heart the old love
+ Struggled with the new;
+It was ghostly waking
+ All night through.
+
+Dear things, kind things,
+ That my old love said,
+Ranged themselves reproachfully
+ Round my bed.
+
+But I could not heed them,
+ For I seemed to see
+The eyes of my new love
+ Fixed on me.
+
+Old love, old love,
+ How can I be true?
+Shall I be faithless to myself
+ Or to you?
+
+
+
+
+The Kiss
+
+
+
+I hoped that he would love me,
+ And he has kissed my mouth,
+But I am like a stricken bird
+ That cannot reach the south.
+
+For though I know he loves me,
+ To-night my heart is sad;
+His kiss was not so wonderful
+ As all the dreams I had.
+
+
+
+
+Swans
+
+
+
+Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
+ Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
+The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
+ That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
+
+We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
+ And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
+How still you are -- your gaze is on my face --
+ We watch the swans and never a word is said.
+
+
+
+
+The River
+
+
+
+I came from the sunny valleys
+ And sought for the open sea,
+For I thought in its gray expanses
+ My peace would come to me.
+
+I came at last to the ocean
+ And found it wild and black,
+And I cried to the windless valleys,
+ "Be kind and take me back!"
+
+But the thirsty tide ran inland,
+ And the salt waves drank of me,
+And I who was fresh as the rainfall
+ Am bitter as the sea.
+
+
+
+
+November
+
+
+
+The world is tired, the year is old,
+ The fading leaves are glad to die,
+The wind goes shivering with cold
+ Where the brown reeds are dry.
+
+Our love is dying like the grass,
+ And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
+Half glad to see our old love pass
+ Like leaves along the wind.
+
+
+
+
+Spring Rain
+
+
+
+I thought I had forgotten,
+ But it all came back again
+To-night with the first spring thunder
+ In a rush of rain.
+
+I remembered a darkened doorway
+ Where we stood while the storm swept by,
+Thunder gripping the earth
+ And lightning scrawled on the sky.
+
+The passing motor busses swayed,
+ For the street was a river of rain,
+Lashed into little golden waves
+ In the lamp light's stain.
+
+With the wild spring rain and thunder
+ My heart was wild and gay;
+Your eyes said more to me that night
+ Than your lips would ever say. . . .
+
+I thought I had forgotten,
+ But it all came back again
+To-night with the first spring thunder
+ In a rush of rain.
+
+
+
+
+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. . . .
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Summer Night, Riverside
+
+
+
+In the wild, soft summer darkness
+How many and many a night we two together
+Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
+Wearing her lights like golden spangles
+Glinting on black satin.
+The rail along the curving pathway
+Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
+And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
+Sheltered us,
+While your kisses and the flowers,
+Falling, falling,
+Tangled my hair. . . .
+
+
+The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky.
+
+
+And now, far off
+In the fragrant darkness
+The tree is tremulous again with bloom,
+For June comes back.
+
+To-night what girl
+Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
+This year's blossoms, clinging in its coils?
+
+
+
+
+Jewels
+
+
+
+If I should see your eyes again,
+ I know how far their look would go --
+Back to a morning in the park
+ With sapphire shadows on the snow.
+
+Or back to oak trees in the spring
+ When you unloosed my hair and kissed
+The head that lay against your knees
+ In the leaf shadow's amethyst.
+
+And still another shining place
+ We would remember -- how the dun
+Wild mountain held us on its crest
+ One diamond morning white with sun.
+
+But I will turn my eyes from you
+ As women turn to put away
+The jewels they have worn at night
+ And cannot wear in sober day.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  II
+
+Interlude:  Songs out of Sorrow
+
+
+
+
+
+
+I.  Spirit's House
+
+
+
+From naked stones of agony
+I will build a house for me;
+As a mason all alone
+I will raise it, stone by stone,
+And every stone where I have bled
+Will show a sign of dusky red.
+I have not gone the way in vain,
+For I have good of all my pain;
+My spirit's quiet house will be
+Built of naked stones I trod
+On roads where I lost sight of God.
+
+
+
+
+II.  Mastery
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+III.  Lessons
+
+
+
+Unless I learn to ask no help
+ From any other soul but mine,
+To seek no strength in waving reeds
+ Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
+Unless I learn to look at Grief
+ Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
+And take from Pleasure fearlessly
+ Whatever gifts will make me wise --
+Unless I learn these things on earth,
+Why was I ever given birth?
+
+
+
+
+IV.  Wisdom
+
+
+
+When I have ceased to break my wings
+Against the faultiness of things,
+And learned that compromises wait
+Behind each hardly opened gate,
+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.
+
+
+
+
+V.  In a Burying Ground
+
+
+
+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."
+
+
+
+
+VI.  Wood Song
+
+
+
+I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
+ Twirl three notes and make a star --
+My heart that walked with bitterness
+ Came back from very far.
+
+Three shining notes were all he had,
+ And yet they made a starry call --
+I caught life back against my breast
+ And kissed it, scars and all.
+
+
+
+
+VII.  Refuge
+
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  III
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Flight
+
+
+
+Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow,
+Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow,
+Let our flight be far in sun or blowing rain --
+*But what if I heard my first love calling me again?*
+
+Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam,
+Take me far away to the hills that hide your home;
+Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door --
+*But what if I heard my first love calling me once more?*
+
+
+
+
+Dew
+
+
+
+As dew leaves the cobweb lightly
+ Threaded with stars,
+Scattering jewels on the fence
+ And the pasture bars;
+As dawn leaves the dry grass bright
+ And the tangled weeds
+Bearing a rainbow gem
+ On each of their seeds;
+So has your love, my lover,
+ Fresh as the dawn,
+Made me a shining road
+ To travel on,
+Set every common sight
+ Of tree or stone
+Delicately alight
+ For me alone.
+
+
+
+
+To-night
+
+
+
+The moon is a curving flower of gold,
+ The sky is still and blue;
+The moon was made for the sky to hold,
+ And I for you.
+
+The moon is a flower without a stem,
+ The sky is luminous;
+Eternity was made for them,
+ To-night for us.
+
+
+
+
+Ebb Tide
+
+
+
+When the long day goes by
+ And I do not see your face,
+The old wild, restless sorrow
+ Steals from its hiding place.
+
+My day is barren and broken,
+ Bereft of light and song,
+A sea beach bleak and windy
+ That moans the whole day long.
+
+To the empty beach at ebb tide,
+ Bare with its rocks and scars,
+Come back like the sea with singing,
+ And light of a million stars.
+
+
+
+
+I Would Live in Your Love
+
+
+
+I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
+Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;
+I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
+I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul
+  as it leads.
+
+
+
+
+Because
+
+
+
+Oh, because you never tried
+To bow my will or break my pride,
+And nothing of the cave-man made
+You want to keep me half afraid,
+Nor ever with a conquering air
+You thought to draw me unaware --
+Take me, for I love you more
+Than I ever loved before.
+
+And since the body's maidenhood
+Alone were neither rare nor good
+Unless with it I gave to you
+A spirit still untrammeled, too,
+Take my dreams and take my mind
+That were masterless as wind;
+And "Master!" I shall say to you
+Since you never asked me to.
+
+
+
+
+The Tree of Song
+
+
+
+I sang my songs for the rest,
+ For you I am still;
+The tree of my song is bare
+ On its shining hill.
+
+For you came like a lordly wind,
+ And the leaves were whirled
+Far as forgotten things
+ Past the rim of the world.
+
+The tree of my song stands bare
+ Against the blue --
+I gave my songs to the rest,
+ Myself to you.
+
+
+
+
+The Giver
+
+
+
+You bound strong sandals on my feet,
+ You gave me bread and wine,
+And sent me under sun and stars,
+ For all the world was mine.
+
+Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
+ You know not what you do;
+For all my world is in your arms,
+ My sun and stars are you.
+
+
+
+
+April Song
+
+
+
+Willow, in your April gown
+ Delicate and gleaming,
+Do you mind in years gone by
+ All my dreaming?
+
+Spring was like a call to me
+ That I could not answer,
+I was chained to loneliness,
+ I, the dancer.
+
+Willow, twinkling in the sun,
+ Still your leaves and hear me,
+I can answer spring at last,
+ Love is near me!
+
+
+
+
+The Wanderer
+
+
+
+I saw the sunset-colored sands,
+ The Nile like flowing fire between,
+ Where Rameses stares forth serene,
+And Ammon's heavy temple stands.
+
+I saw the rocks where long ago,
+ Above the sea that cries and breaks,
+ Swift Perseus with Medusa's snakes
+Set free the maiden white like snow.
+
+And many skies have covered me,
+ And many winds have blown me forth,
+ And I have loved the green, bright north,
+And I have loved the cold, sweet sea.
+
+But what to me are north and south,
+ And what the lure of many lands,
+ Since you have leaned to catch my hands
+And lay a kiss upon my mouth.
+
+
+
+
+The Years
+
+
+
+To-night I close my eyes and see
+A strange procession passing me --
+The years before I saw your face
+Go by me with a wistful grace;
+They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
+As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.
+
+The years went by and never knew
+That each one brought me nearer you;
+Their path was narrow and apart
+And yet it led me to your heart --
+Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years,
+That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.
+
+
+
+
+Enough
+
+
+
+It is enough for me by day
+ To walk the same bright earth with him;
+Enough that over us by night
+ The same great roof of stars is dim.
+
+I do not hope to bind the wind
+ Or set a fetter on the sea --
+It is enough to feel his love
+ Blow by like music over me.
+
+
+
+
+Come
+
+
+
+Come, when the pale moon like a petal
+ Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,
+Come with arms outstretched to take me,
+ Come with lips pursed up to cling.
+
+Come, for life is a frail moth flying,
+ Caught in the web of the years that pass,
+And soon we two, so warm and eager,
+ Will be as the gray stones in the grass.
+
+
+
+
+Joy
+
+
+
+I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
+ I will sing to the stars in the sky,
+I love, I am loved, he is mine,
+ Now at last I can die!
+
+I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
+ I have heart-fire and singing to give,
+I can tread on the grass or the stars,
+ Now at last I can live!
+
+
+
+
+Riches
+
+
+
+I have no riches but my thoughts,
+ Yet these are wealth enough for me;
+My thoughts of you are golden coins
+ Stamped in the mint of memory;
+
+And I must spend them all in song,
+ For thoughts, as well as gold, must be
+Left on the hither side of death
+ To gain their immortality.
+
+
+
+
+Dusk in War Time
+
+
+
+A half-hour more and you will lean
+ To gather me close in the old sweet way --
+But oh, to the woman over the sea
+ Who will come at the close of day?
+
+A half-hour more and I will hear
+ The key in the latch and the strong, quick tread --
+But oh, the woman over the sea
+ Waiting at dusk for one who is dead!
+
+
+
+
+Peace
+
+
+
+Peace flows into me
+ As the tide to the pool by the shore;
+ It is mine forevermore,
+It will not ebb like the sea.
+
+I am the pool of blue
+ That worships the vivid sky;
+ My hopes were heaven-high,
+They are all fulfilled in you.
+
+I am the pool of gold
+ When sunset burns and dies --
+ You are my deepening skies;
+Give me your stars to hold.
+
+
+
+
+Moods
+
+
+
+I am the still rain falling,
+ Too tired for singing mirth --
+Oh, be the green fields calling,
+ Oh, be for me the earth!
+
+I am the brown bird pining
+ To leave the nest and fly --
+Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
+ Oh, be for me the sky!
+
+
+
+
+Houses of Dreams
+
+
+
+You took my empty dreams
+ And filled them every one
+With tenderness and nobleness,
+ April and the sun.
+
+The old empty dreams
+ Where my thoughts would throng
+Are far too full of happiness
+ To even hold a song.
+
+Oh, the empty dreams were dim
+ And the empty dreams were wide,
+They were sweet and shadowy houses
+ Where my thoughts could hide.
+
+But you took my dreams away
+ And you made them all come true --
+My thoughts have no place now to play,
+ And nothing now to do.
+
+
+
+
+Lights
+
+
+
+When we come home at night and close the door,
+ Standing together in the shadowy room,
+ Safe in our own love and the gentle gloom,
+Glad of familiar wall and chair and floor,
+
+Glad to leave far below the clanging city;
+ Looking far downward to the glaring street
+ Gaudy with light, yet tired with many feet,
+In both of us wells up a wordless pity;
+
+Men have tried hard to put away the dark;
+ A million lighted windows brilliantly
+    Inlay with squares of gold the winter night,
+But to us standing here there comes the stark
+    Sense of the lives behind each yellow light,
+ And not one wholly joyous, proud, or free.
+
+
+
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+Doubt
+
+
+
+My soul lives in my body's house,
+ And you have both the house and her --
+But sometimes she is less your own
+ Than a wild, gay adventurer;
+A restless and an eager wraith,
+ How can I tell what she will do --
+Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,
+ But what if my soul broke faith with you?
+
+
+
+
+The Wind
+
+
+
+A wind is blowing over my soul,
+ I hear it cry the whole night through --
+Is there no peace for me on earth
+ Except with you?
+
+Alas, the wind has made me wise,
+ Over my naked soul it blew, --
+There is no peace for me on earth
+ Even with you.
+
+
+
+
+Morning
+
+
+
+I went out on an April morning
+ All alone, for my heart was high,
+I was a child of the shining meadow,
+ I was a sister of the sky.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+Other Men
+
+
+
+When I talk with other men
+ I always think of you --
+Your words are keener than their words,
+ And they are gentler, too.
+
+When I look at other men,
+ I wish your face were there,
+With its gray eyes and dark skin
+ And tossed black hair.
+
+When I think of other men,
+ Dreaming alone by day,
+The thought of you like a strong wind
+ Blows the dreams away.
+
+
+
+
+Embers
+
+
+
+I said, "My youth is gone
+ Like a fire beaten out by the rain,
+That will never sway and sing
+ Or play with the wind again."
+
+I said, "It is no great sorrow
+ That quenched my youth in me,
+But only little sorrows
+ Beating ceaselessly."
+
+I thought my youth was gone,
+ But you returned --
+Like a flame at the call of the wind
+ It leaped and burned;
+
+Threw off its ashen cloak,
+ And gowned anew
+Gave itself like a bride
+ Once more to you.
+
+
+
+
+Message
+
+
+
+I heard a cry in the night,
+ A thousand miles it came,
+Sharp as a flash of light,
+ My name, my name!
+
+It was your voice I heard,
+ You waked and loved me so --
+I send you back this word,
+ I know, I know!
+
+
+
+
+The Lamp
+
+
+
+If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
+When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
+I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
+    Nor cry in terror.
+
+If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
+If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
+Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
+    A lamp in darkness.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  IV
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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. . . .  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. . . .
+     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. . . .  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. . . .  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!" . . .  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. . . .
+
+     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. . . .
+
+     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. . . .  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. . . .
+     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!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[End of Love Songs.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+{As an item of interest to the reader, the following,
+which was at the end of this edition, is included.
+Only the advertisement for the same author is included}.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+By the same author
+
+Rivers to the Sea
+
+
+
+"There is hardly another American woman-poet whose poetry is generally
+known and loved like that of Sara Teasdale.  `Rivers to the Sea',
+her latest volume of lyrics, possesses the delicacy of imagery,
+the inward illumination, the high vision that characterize the poetry
+that will endure the test of time." -- `Review of Reviews'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is a book of sheer delight. . . .  Her touch
+turns everything to song." -- Edward J. Wheeler, in `Current Opinion'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale's lyrics have the clarity, the precision,
+the grace and fragrance of flowers." -- Harriet Monroe, in `Poetry'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale has a genius for the song, for the perfect lyric,
+in which the words seem to have fallen into place without art or effort."
+-- Louis Untermeyer, in `The Chicago Evening Post'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the best book of pure lyrics
+that has appeared in English since A. E. Housman's `A Shropshire Lad'."
+-- William Marion Reedy, in `The Mirror'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the most beautiful book of pure lyrics
+that has come to my hand in years." -- `Los Angeles Graphic'.
+
+"Sara Teasdale sings about love better than any other contemporary
+American poet." -- `The Boston Transcript'.
+
+"`Rivers to the Sea' is the most charming volume of poetry that has appeared
+on either side of the Atlantic in a score of years." -- `St. Louis Republic'.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Sara Teasdale (1884-1933):
+
+Teasdale was born in St. Louis, Missouri, where she attended a school
+that was founded by the grandfather of another great poet from St. Louis --
+T. S. Eliot.  She later associated herself more with New York City.
+Her first book of poems was "Sonnets to Duse" (1907),
+[at least one poem in the current volume, "Faults", is from this book,]
+but "Helen of Troy" (1911) was the true launch of her career,
+followed by "Rivers to the Sea" (1915), "Love Songs" (1917),
+"Flame and Shadow" (1920) and more.  Her final volume, "Strange Victory",
+is considered by many to be predictive of her suicide in 1933.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale
+
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