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diff --git a/old/fshad10.txt b/old/fshad10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..21a0959 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/fshad10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2603 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Etext of Flame and Shadow, by Sara Teasdale +#3 in our series by Sara Teasdale + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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Light, alight@mercury.interpath.net + +Flame and Shadow +By Sara Teasdale + + + + + + +[Note on text: Italicized stanzas are indented 5 spaces. +Italicized words or phrases are marked by tildes (~). +Lines longer than 78 characters are broken according to metre, +and the continuation is indented two spaces. Also, some obvious errors +may have been corrected.] + + + + + +Flame and Shadow + +By Sara Teasdale +Author of "Rivers to the Sea", "Love Songs", etc. + + + + + +To E. + +"Recois la flamme ou l'ombre + De tous mes jours." + + + + + +Contents + + + + I + +Blue Squills +Stars +"What Do I Care?" +Meadowlarks +Driftwood +"I Have Loved Hours at Sea" +August Moonrise + + +Memories + II + +Places +Old Tunes +"Only in Sleep" +Redbirds +Sunset: St. Louis +The Coin +The Voice + + + III + +Day and Night +Compensation +I Remembered +"Oh You Are Coming" +The Return +Gray Eyes +The Net +The Mystery + + +In a Hospital + IV + +Open Windows +The New Moon +Eight O'Clock +Lost Things +Pain +The Broken Field +The Unseen +A Prayer + + + V + +Spring Torrents +"I Know the Stars" +Understanding +Nightfall +"It Is Not a Word" +"My Heart Is Heavy" +The Nights Remember +"Let It Be Forgotten" + + +The Dark Cup + VI + +May Day +"Since There Is No Escape" +"The Dreams of My Heart" +"A Little While" +The Garden +The Wine +In a Cuban Garden +"If I Must Go" + + + VII + +In Spring, Santa Barbara +White Fog +Arcturus +Moonlight +Morning Song +Gray Fog +Bells +Lovely Chance + + + VIII + +"There Will Come Soft Rains" +In a Garden +Nahant +Winter Stars +A Boy +Winter Dusk + + +By the Sea + IX + +The Unchanging +June Night +"Like Barley Bending" +"Oh Day of Fire and Sun" +"I Thought of You" +On the Dunes +Spray +If Death Is Kind + + + X + +Thoughts +Faces +Evening: New York +Snowfall +The Silent Battle +The Sanctuary +At Sea +Dust +The Long Hill + + + XI + +Summer Storm +In the End +"It Will Not Change" +Change +Water Lilies +"Did You Never Know?" +The Treasure +The Storm + + +Songs For Myself + XII + +The Tree +At Midnight +Song Making +Alone +Red Maples +Debtor +The Wind in the Hemlock + + + + + + +Flame and Shadow + + + + + + + I + + + + + + +Blue Squills + + + +How many million Aprils came + Before I ever knew +How white a cherry bough could be, + A bed of squills, how blue! + +And many a dancing April + When life is done with me, +Will lift the blue flame of the flower + And the white flame of the tree. + +Oh burn me with your beauty, then, + Oh hurt me, tree and flower, +Lest in the end death try to take + Even this glistening hour. + +O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees, + O sunlit white and blue, +Wound me, that I, through endless sleep, + May bear the scar of you. + + + + +Stars + + + +Alone in the night + On a dark hill +With pines around me + Spicy and still, + +And a heaven full of stars + Over my head, +White and topaz + And misty red; + +Myriads with beating + Hearts of fire +That aeons + Cannot vex or tire; + +Up the dome of heaven + Like a great hill, +I watch them marching + Stately and still, + +And I know that I + Am honored to be +Witness + Of so much majesty. + + + + +"What Do I Care?" + + + +What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring, + That my songs do not show me at all? +For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire, + I am an answer, they are only a call. + +But what do I care, for love will be over so soon, + Let my heart have its say and my mind stand idly by, +For my mind is proud and strong enough to be silent, + It is my heart that makes my songs, not I. + + + + +Meadowlarks + + + +In the silver light after a storm, + Under dripping boughs of bright new green, +I take the low path to hear the meadowlarks + Alone and high-hearted as if I were a queen. + +What have I to fear in life or death + Who have known three things: the kiss in the night, +The white flying joy when a song is born, + And meadowlarks whistling in silver light. + + + + +Driftwood + + + +My forefathers gave me + My spirit's shaken flame, +The shape of hands, the beat of heart, + The letters of my name. + +But it was my lovers, + And not my sleeping sires, +Who gave the flame its changeful + And iridescent fires; + +As the driftwood burning + Learned its jewelled blaze +From the sea's blue splendor + Of colored nights and days. + + + + +"I Have Loved Hours at Sea" + + + +I have loved hours at sea, gray cities, + The fragile secret of a flower, +Music, the making of a poem + That gave me heaven for an hour; + +First stars above a snowy hill, + Voices of people kindly and wise, +And the great look of love, long hidden, + Found at last in meeting eyes. + +I have loved much and been loved deeply -- + Oh when my spirit's fire burns low, +Leave me the darkness and the stillness, + I shall be tired and glad to go. + + + + +August Moonrise + + + +The sun was gone, and the moon was coming +Over the blue Connecticut hills; +The west was rosy, the east was flushed, +And over my head the swallows rushed +This way and that, with changeful wills. +I heard them twitter and watched them dart +Now together and now apart +Like dark petals blown from a tree; +The maples stamped against the west +Were black and stately and full of rest, +And the hazy orange moon grew up +And slowly changed to yellow gold +While the hills were darkened, fold on fold +To a deeper blue than a flower could hold. +Down the hill I went, and then +I forgot the ways of men, +For night-scents, heady, and damp and cool +Wakened ecstasy in me +On the brink of a shining pool. + +O Beauty, out of many a cup +You have made me drunk and wild +Ever since I was a child, +But when have I been sure as now +That no bitterness can bend +And no sorrow wholly bow +One who loves you to the end? +And though I must give my breath +And my laughter all to death, +And my eyes through which joy came, +And my heart, a wavering flame; +If all must leave me and go back +Along a blind and fearful track +So that you can make anew, +Fusing with intenser fire, +Something nearer your desire; +If my soul must go alone +Through a cold infinity, +Or even if it vanish, too, +Beauty, I have worshipped you. + +Let this single hour atone +For the theft of all of me. + + + + + + +Memories + II + + + + + + +Places + + + +Places I love come back to me like music, + Hush me and heal me when I am very tired; +I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming + In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired; +And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley + As for a kiss ungiven and long desired. + +I know a bright world of snowy hills at Boonton, + A blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees, +The ice-covered branches of the hemlocks sparkle + Bending low and tinkling in the sharp thin breeze, +And iridescent crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust + With the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees. + +Violet now, in veil on veil of evening + The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far; +A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol + In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are; +The primrose has opened her pale yellow flowers + And heaven is lighting star after star. + +Places I love come back to me like music -- + Mid-ocean, midnight, the waves buzz drowsily; +In the ship's deep churning the eerie phosphorescence + Is like the souls of people who were drowned at sea, +And I can hear a man's voice, speaking, hushed, insistent, + At midnight, in mid-ocean, hour on hour to me. + + + + +Old Tunes + + + +As the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose, +Float in the garden when no wind blows, +Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows; + +So the old tunes float in my mind, +And go from me leaving no trace behind, +Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind. + +But in the instant the airs remain +I know the laughter and the pain +Of times that will not come again. + +I try to catch at many a tune +Like petals of light fallen from the moon, +Broken and bright on a dark lagoon, + +But they float away -- for who can hold +Youth, or perfume or the moon's gold? + + + + +"Only in Sleep" + + + +Only in sleep I see their faces, + Children I played with when I was a child, +Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, + Annie with ringlets warm and wild. + +Only in sleep Time is forgotten -- + What may have come to them, who can know? + Yet we played last night as long ago, +And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair. + +The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, + I met their eyes and found them mild -- +Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, + And for them am I too a child? + + + + +Redbirds + + + +Redbirds, redbirds, + Long and long ago, +What a honey-call you had + In hills I used to know; + +Redbud, buckberry, + Wild plum-tree +And proud river sweeping + Southward to the sea, + +Brown and gold in the sun + Sparkling far below, +Trailing stately round her bluffs + Where the poplars grow -- + +Redbirds, redbirds, + Are you singing still +As you sang one May day + On Saxton's Hill? + + + + +Sunset: St. Louis + + + +Hushed in the smoky haze of summer sunset, +When I came home again from far-off places, +How many times I saw my western city + Dream by her river. + +Then for an hour the water wore a mantle +Of tawny gold and mauve and misted turquoise +Under the tall and darkened arches bearing + Gray, high-flung bridges. + +Against the sunset, water-towers and steeples +Flickered with fire up the slope to westward, +And old warehouses poured their purple shadows + Across the levee. + +High over them the black train swept with thunder, +Cleaving the city, leaving far beneath it +Wharf-boats moored beside the old side-wheelers + Resting in twilight. + + + + +The Coin + + + +Into my heart's treasury + I slipped a coin +That time cannot take + Nor a thief purloin, -- +Oh better than the minting + Of a gold-crowned king +Is the safe-kept memory + Of a lovely thing. + + + + +The Voice + + + +Atoms as old as stars, +Mutation on mutation, +Millions and millions of cells +Dividing yet still the same, +From air and changing earth, +From ancient Eastern rivers, +From turquoise tropic seas, +Unto myself I came. + +My spirit like my flesh +Sprang from a thousand sources, +From cave-man, hunter and shepherd, +From Karnak, Cyprus, Rome; +The living thoughts in me +Spring from dead men and women, +Forgotten time out of mind +And many as bubbles of foam. + +Here for a moment's space +Into the light out of darkness, +I come and they come with me +Finding words with my breath; +From the wisdom of many life-times +I hear them cry: "Forever +Seek for Beauty, she only +Fights with man against Death!" + + + + + + + III + + + + + + +Day and Night + + + +In Warsaw in Poland + Half the world away, +The one I love best of all + Thought of me to-day; + +I know, for I went + Winged as a bird, +In the wide flowing wind + His own voice I heard; + +His arms were round me + In a ferny place, +I looked in the pool + And there was his face -- + +But now it is night + And the cold stars say: +"Warsaw in Poland + Is half the world away." + + + + +Compensation + + + +I should be glad of loneliness + And hours that go on broken wings, +A thirsty body, a tired heart + And the unchanging ache of things, +If I could make a single song + As lovely and as full of light, +As hushed and brief as a falling star + On a winter night. + + + + +I Remembered + + + +There never was a mood of mine, + Gay or heart-broken, luminous or dull, +But you could ease me of its fever + And give it back to me more beautiful. + +In many another soul I broke the bread, + And drank the wine and played the happy guest, +But I was lonely, I remembered you; + The heart belongs to him who knew it best. + + + + +"Oh You Are Coming" + + + +Oh you are coming, coming, coming, + How will hungry Time put by the hours till then? -- +But why does it anger my heart to long so + For one man out of the world of men? + +Oh I would live in myself only + And build my life lightly and still as a dream -- +Are not my thoughts clearer than your thoughts + And colored like stones in a running stream? + +Now the slow moon brightens in heaven, + The stars are ready, the night is here -- +Oh why must I lose myself to love you, + My dear? + + + + +The Return + + + +He has come, he is here, +My love has come home, +The minutes are lighter +Than flying foam, +The hours are like dancers +On gold-slippered feet, +The days are young runners +Naked and fleet -- +For my love has returned, +He is home, he is here, +In the whole world no other +Is dear as my dear! + + + + +Gray Eyes + + + +It was April when you came + The first time to me, +And my first look in your eyes + Was like my first look at the sea. + +We have been together + Four Aprils now +Watching for the green + On the swaying willow bough; + +Yet whenever I turn + To your gray eyes over me, +It is as though I looked + For the first time at the sea. + + + + +The Net + + + +I made you many and many a song, + Yet never one told all you are -- +It was as though a net of words + Were flung to catch a star; + +It was as though I curved my hand + And dipped sea-water eagerly, +Only to find it lost the blue + Dark splendor of the sea. + + + + +The Mystery + + + +Your eyes drink of me, + Love makes them shine, +Your eyes that lean + So close to mine. + +We have long been lovers, + We know the range +Of each other's moods + And how they change; + +But when we look + At each other so +Then we feel + How little we know; + +The spirit eludes us, + Timid and free -- +Can I ever know you + Or you know me? + + + + + + +In a Hospital + IV + + + + + + +Open Windows + + + +Out of the window a sea of green trees + Lift their soft boughs like the arms of a dancer, +They beckon and call me, "Come out in the sun!" + But I cannot answer. + +I am alone with Weakness and Pain, + Sick abed and June is going, +I cannot keep her, she hurries by + With the silver-green of her garments blowing. + +Men and women pass in the street + Glad of the shining sapphire weather, +But we know more of it than they, + Pain and I together. + +They are the runners in the sun, + Breathless and blinded by the race, +But we are watchers in the shade + Who speak with Wonder face to face. + + + + +The New Moon + + + +Day, you have bruised and beaten me, +As rain beats down the bright, proud sea, +Beaten my body, bruised my soul, +Left me nothing lovely or whole -- +Yet I have wrested a gift from you, +Day that dies in dusky blue: + +For suddenly over the factories +I saw a moon in the cloudy seas -- +A wisp of beauty all alone +In a world as hard and gray as stone -- +Oh who could be bitter and want to die +When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky? + + + + +Eight O'Clock + + + +Supper comes at five o'clock, + At six, the evening star, +My lover comes at eight o'clock -- + But eight o'clock is far. + +How could I bear my pain all day + Unless I watched to see +The clock-hands laboring to bring + Eight o'clock to me. + + + + +Lost Things + + + +Oh, I could let the world go by, + Its loud new wonders and its wars, +But how will I give up the sky + When winter dusk is set with stars? + +And I could let the cities go, + Their changing customs and their creeds, -- +But oh, the summer rains that blow + In silver on the jewel-weeds! + + + + +Pain + + + +Waves are the sea's white daughters, + And raindrops the children of rain, +But why for my shimmering body + Have I a mother like Pain? + +Night is the mother of stars, + And wind the mother of foam -- +The world is brimming with beauty, + But I must stay at home. + + + + +The Broken Field + + + +My soul is a dark ploughed field + In the cold rain; +My soul is a broken field + Ploughed by pain. + +Where grass and bending flowers + Were growing, +The field lies broken now + For another sowing. + +Great Sower when you tread + My field again, +Scatter the furrows there + With better grain. + + + + +The Unseen + + + +Death went up the hall + Unseen by every one, +Trailing twilight robes + Past the nurse and the nun. + +He paused at every door + And listened to the breath +Of those who did not know + How near they were to Death. + +Death went up the hall + Unseen by nurse and nun; +He passed by many a door -- + But he entered one. + + + + +A Prayer + + + +When I am dying, let me know +That I loved the blowing snow + Although it stung like whips; +That I loved all lovely things +And I tried to take their stings + With gay unembittered lips; +That I loved with all my strength, +To my soul's full depth and length, + Careless if my heart must break, +That I sang as children sing +Fitting tunes to everything, + Loving life for its own sake. + + + + + + + V + + + + + + +Spring Torrents + + + +Will it always be like this until I am dead, + Every spring must I bear it all again +With the first red haze of the budding maple boughs, + And the first sweet-smelling rain? + +Oh I am like a rock in the rising river + Where the flooded water breaks with a low call -- +Like a rock that knows the cry of the waters + And cannot answer at all. + + + + +"I Know the Stars" + + + +I know the stars by their names, + Aldebaran, Altair, +And I know the path they take + Up heaven's broad blue stair. + +I know the secrets of men + By the look of their eyes, +Their gray thoughts, their strange thoughts + Have made me sad and wise. + +But your eyes are dark to me + Though they seem to call and call -- +I cannot tell if you love me + Or do not love me at all. + +I know many things, + But the years come and go, +I shall die not knowing + The thing I long to know. + + + + +Understanding + + + +I understood the rest too well, + And all their thoughts have come to be +Clear as grey sea-weed in the swell + Of a sunny shallow sea. + +But you I never understood, + Your spirit's secret hides like gold +Sunk in a Spanish galleon + Ages ago in waters cold. + + + + +Nightfall + + + +We will never walk again + As we used to walk at night, +Watching our shadows lengthen + Under the gold street-light + When the snow was new and white. + +We will never walk again + Slowly, we two, +In spring when the park is sweet + With midnight and with dew, + And the passers-by are few. + +I sit and think of it all, + And the blue June twilight dies, -- +Down in the clanging square + A street-piano cries + And stars come out in the skies. + + + + +"It Is Not a Word" + + + +It is not a word spoken, + Few words are said; +Nor even a look of the eyes + Nor a bend of the head, +But only a hush of the heart + That has too much to keep, +Only memories waking + That sleep so light a sleep. + + + + +"My Heart Is Heavy" + + + +My heart is heavy with many a song + Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree, +But I can never give you one -- + My songs do not belong to me. + +Yet in the evening, in the dusk + When moths go to and fro, +In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen, + Take it, no one will know. + + + + +The Nights Remember + + + +The days remember and the nights remember + The kingly hours that once you made so great, +Deep in my heart they lie, hidden in their splendor, + Buried like sovereigns in their robes of state. + +Let them not wake again, better to lie there, + Wrapped in memories, jewelled and arrayed -- +Many a ghostly king has waked from death-sleep + And found his crown stolen and his throne decayed. + + + + +"Let It Be Forgotten" + + + +Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, + Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, +Let it be forgotten for ever and ever, + Time is a kind friend, he will make us old. + +If anyone asks, say it was forgotten + Long and long ago, +As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall + In a long forgotten snow. + + + + + + +The Dark Cup + VI + + + + + + +May Day + + + +A delicate fabric of bird song + Floats in the air, +The smell of wet wild earth + Is everywhere. + +Red small leaves of the maple + Are clenched like a hand, +Like girls at their first communion + The pear trees stand. + +Oh I must pass nothing by + Without loving it much, +The raindrop try with my lips, + The grass with my touch; + +For how can I be sure + I shall see again +The world on the first of May + Shining after the rain? + + + + +"Since There Is No Escape" + + + +Since there is no escape, since at the end + My body will be utterly destroyed, +This hand I love as I have loved a friend, + This body I tended, wept with and enjoyed; +Since there is no escape even for me + Who love life with a love too sharp to bear: +The scent of orchards in the rain, the sea + And hours alone too still and sure for prayer -- +Since darkness waits for me, then all the more +Let me go down as waves sweep to the shore + In pride; and let me sing with my last breath; +In these few hours of light I lift my head; +Life is my lover -- I shall leave the dead + If there is any way to baffle death. + + + + +"The Dreams of My Heart" + + + +The dreams of my heart and my mind pass, + Nothing stays with me long, +But I have had from a child + The deep solace of song; + +If that should ever leave me, + Let me find death and stay +With things whose tunes are played out and forgotten + Like the rain of yesterday. + + + + +"A Little While" + + + +A little while when I am gone + My life will live in music after me, +As spun foam lifted and borne on + After the wave is lost in the full sea. + +A while these nights and days will burn + In song with the bright frailty of foam, +Living in light before they turn + Back to the nothingness that is their home. + + + + +The Garden + + + +My heart is a garden tired with autumn, + Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark, +In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April, + The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark; + +Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning, + And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain -- +The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten -- + After the stillness, will spring come again? + + + + +The Wine + + + +I cannot die, who drank delight + From the cup of the crescent moon, +And hungrily as men eat bread, + Loved the scented nights of June. + +The rest may die -- but is there not + Some shining strange escape for me +Who sought in Beauty the bright wine + Of immortality? + + + + +In a Cuban Garden + + + +Hibiscus flowers are cups of fire, + (Love me, my lover, life will not stay) +The bright poinsettia shakes in the wind, + A scarlet leaf is blowing away. + +A lizard lifts his head and listens -- + Kiss me before the noon goes by, +Here in the shade of the ceiba hide me + From the great black vulture circling the sky. + + + + +"If I Must Go" + + + +If I must go to heaven's end + Climbing the ages like a stair, +Be near me and forever bend + With the same eyes above me there; +Time will fly past us like leaves flying, + We shall not heed, for we shall be +Beyond living, beyond dying, + Knowing and known unchangeably. + + + + + + + VII + + + + + + +In Spring, Santa Barbara + + + +I have been happy two weeks together, + My love is coming home to me, +Gold and silver is the weather + And smooth as lapis is the sea. + +The earth has turned its brown to green + After three nights of humming rain, +And in the valleys peck and preen + Linnets with a scarlet stain. + +High in the mountains all alone + The wild swans whistle on the lakes, +But I have been as still as stone, + My heart sings only when it breaks. + + + + +White Fog + + + +Heaven-invading hills are drowned + In wide moving waves of mist, +Phlox before my door are wound + In dripping wreaths of amethyst. + +Ten feet away the solid earth + Changes into melting cloud, +There is a hush of pain and mirth, + No bird has heart to speak aloud. + +Here in a world without a sky, + Without the ground, without the sea, +The one unchanging thing is I, + Myself remains to comfort me. + + + + +Arcturus + + + +Arcturus brings the spring back + As surely now as when +He rose on eastern islands + For Grecian girls and men; + +The twilight is as clear a blue, + The star as shaken and as bright, +And the same thought he gave to them + He gives to me to-night. + + + + +Moonlight + + + +It will not hurt me when I am old, + A running tide where moonlight burned + Will not sting me like silver snakes; +The years will make me sad and cold, + It is the happy heart that breaks. + +The heart asks more than life can give, + When that is learned, then all is learned; + The waves break fold on jewelled fold, +But beauty itself is fugitive, + It will not hurt me when I am old. + + + + +Morning Song + + + +A diamond of a morning + Waked me an hour too soon; +Dawn had taken in the stars + And left the faint white moon. + +O white moon, you are lonely, + It is the same with me, +But we have the world to roam over, + Only the lonely are free. + + + + +Gray Fog + + + +A fog drifts in, the heavy laden + Cold white ghost of the sea -- +One by one the hills go out, + The road and the pepper-tree. + +I watch the fog float in at the window + With the whole world gone blind, +Everything, even my longing, drowses, + Even the thoughts in my mind. + +I put my head on my hands before me, + There is nothing left to be done or said, +There is nothing to hope for, I am tired, + And heavy as the dead. + + + + +Bells + + + +At six o'clock of an autumn dusk + With the sky in the west a rusty red, +The bells of the mission down in the valley + Cry out that the day is dead. + +The first star pricks as sharp as steel -- + Why am I suddenly so cold? +Three bells, each with a separate sound + Clang in the valley, wearily tolled. + +Bells in Venice, bells at sea, + Bells in the valley heavy and slow -- +There is no place over the crowded world + Where I can forget that the days go. + + + + +Lovely Chance + + + +O lovely chance, what can I do +To give my gratefulness to you? +You rise between myself and me +With a wise persistency; +I would have broken body and soul, +But by your grace, still I am whole. +Many a thing you did to save me, +Many a holy gift you gave me, +Music and friends and happy love +More than my dearest dreaming of; +And now in this wide twilight hour +With earth and heaven a dark, blue flower, +In a humble mood I bless +Your wisdom -- and your waywardness. +You brought me even here, where I +Live on a hill against the sky +And look on mountains and the sea +And a thin white moon in the pepper tree. + + + + + + + VIII + + + + + + +"There Will Come Soft Rains" + +(War Time) + + + +There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, +And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; + +And frogs in the pools singing at night, +And wild plum-trees in tremulous white; + +Robins will wear their feathery fire +Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; + +And not one will know of the war, not one +Will care at last when it is done. + +Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree +If mankind perished utterly; + +And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, +Would scarcely know that we were gone. + + + + +In a Garden + + + +The world is resting without sound or motion, + Behind the apple tree the sun goes down +Painting with fire the spires and the windows + In the elm-shaded town. + +Beyond the calm Connecticut the hills lie + Silvered with haze as fruits still fresh with bloom, +The swallows weave in flight across the zenith + On an aerial loom. + +Into the garden peace comes back with twilight, + Peace that since noon had left the purple phlox, +The heavy-headed asters, the late roses + And swaying hollyhocks. + +For at high-noon I heard from this same garden + The far-off murmur as when many come; +Up from the village surged the blind and beating + Red music of a drum; + +And the hysterical sharp fife that shattered + The brittle autumn air, +While they came, the young men marching + Past the village square. . . . + +Across the calm Connecticut the hills change + To violet, the veils of dusk are deep -- +Earth takes her children's many sorrows calmly + And stills herself to sleep. + + + + +Nahant + + + +Bowed as an elm under the weight of its beauty, +So earth is bowed, under her weight of splendor, +Molten sea, richness of leaves and the burnished + Bronze of sea-grasses. + +Clefts in the cliff shelter the purple sand-peas +And chicory flowers bluer than the ocean +Flinging its foam high, white fire in sunshine, + Jewels of water. + +Joyous thunder of blown waves on the ledges, +Make me forget war and the dark war-sorrow -- +Against the sky a sentry paces the sea-cliff + Slim in his khaki. + + + + +Winter Stars + + + +I went out at night alone; + The young blood flowing beyond the sea +Seemed to have drenched my spirit's wings -- + I bore my sorrow heavily. + +But when I lifted up my head + From shadows shaken on the snow, +I saw Orion in the east + Burn steadily as long ago. + +From windows in my father's house, + Dreaming my dreams on winter nights, +I watched Orion as a girl + Above another city's lights. + +Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too, + The world's heart breaks beneath its wars, +All things are changed, save in the east + The faithful beauty of the stars. + + + + +A Boy + + + +Out of the noise of tired people working, + Harried with thoughts of war and lists of dead, +His beauty met me like a fresh wind blowing, + Clean boyish beauty and high-held head. + +Eyes that told secrets, lips that would not tell them, + Fearless and shy the young unwearied eyes -- +Men die by millions now, because God blunders, + Yet to have made this boy he must be wise. + + + + +Winter Dusk + + + +I watch the great clear twilight + Veiling the ice-bowed trees; +Their branches tinkle faintly + With crystal melodies. + +The larches bend their silver + Over the hush of snow; +One star is lighted in the west, + Two in the zenith glow. + +For a moment I have forgotten + Wars and women who mourn -- +I think of the mother who bore me + And thank her that I was born. + + + + + + +By the Sea + IX + + + + + + +The Unchanging + + + +Sun-swept beaches with a light wind blowing + From the immense blue circle of the sea, +And the soft thunder where long waves whiten -- + These were the same for Sappho as for me. + +Two thousand years -- much has gone by forever, + Change takes the gods and ships and speech of men -- +But here on the beaches that time passes over + The heart aches now as then. + + + + +June Night + + + +Oh Earth, you are too dear to-night, + How can I sleep while all around +Floats rainy fragrance and the far + Deep voice of the ocean that talks to the ground? + +Oh Earth, you gave me all I have, + I love you, I love you, -- oh what have I +That I can give you in return -- + Except my body after I die? + + + + +"Like Barley Bending" + + + +Like barley bending + In low fields by the sea, +Singing in hard wind + Ceaselessly; + +Like barley bending + And rising again, +So would I, unbroken, + Rise from pain; + +So would I softly, + Day long, night long, +Change my sorrow + Into song. + + + + +"Oh Day of Fire and Sun" + + + +Oh day of fire and sun, + Pure as a naked flame, +Blue sea, blue sky and dun + Sands where he spoke my name; + +Laughter and hearts so high + That the spirit flew off free, +Lifting into the sky + Diving into the sea; + +Oh day of fire and sun + Like a crystal burning, +Slow days go one by one, + But you have no returning. + + + + +"I Thought of You" + + + +I thought of you and how you love this beauty, + And walking up the long beach all alone +I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder + As you and I once heard their monotone. + +Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me + The cold and sparkling silver of the sea -- +We two will pass through death and ages lengthen + Before you hear that sound again with me. + + + + +On the Dunes + + + +If there is any life when death is over, + These tawny beaches will know much of me, +I shall come back, as constant and as changeful + As the unchanging, many-colored sea. + +If life was small, if it has made me scornful, + Forgive me; I shall straighten like a flame +In the great calm of death, and if you want me + Stand on the sea-ward dunes and call my name. + + + + +Spray + + + +I knew you thought of me all night, + I knew, though you were far away; + I felt your love blow over me + As if a dark wind-riven sea + Drenched me with quivering spray. + +There are so many ways to love + And each way has its own delight -- + Then be content to come to me + Only as spray the beating sea + Drives inland through the night. + + + + +If Death Is Kind + + + +Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning, + We will come back to earth some fragrant night, +And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending + Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white. + +We will come down at night to these resounding beaches + And the long gentle thunder of the sea, +Here for a single hour in the wide starlight + We shall be happy, for the dead are free. + + + + + + + X + + + + + + +Thoughts + + + +When I am all alone + Envy me most, +Then my thoughts flutter round me + In a glimmering host; + +Some dressed in silver, + Some dressed in white, +Each like a taper + Blossoming light; + +Most of them merry, + Some of them grave, +Each of them lithe + As willows that wave; + +Some bearing violets, + Some bearing bay, +One with a burning rose + Hidden away -- + +When I am all alone + Envy me then, +For I have better friends + Than women and men. + + + + +Faces + + + +People that I meet and pass + In the city's broken roar, +Faces that I lose so soon + And have never found before, + +Do you know how much you tell + In the meeting of our eyes, +How ashamed I am, and sad + To have pierced your poor disguise? + +Secrets rushing without sound + Crying from your hiding places -- +Let me go, I cannot bear + The sorrow of the passing faces. + +-- People in the restless street, + Can it be, oh can it be +In the meeting of our eyes + That you know as much of me? + + + + +Evening: New York + + + +Blue dust of evening over my city, + Over the ocean of roofs and the tall towers +Where the window-lights, myriads and myriads, + Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers. + + + + +Snowfall + + + +"She can't be unhappy," you said, + "The smiles are like stars in her eyes, +And her laugh is thistledown + Around her low replies." +"Is she unhappy?" you said -- + But who has ever known +Another's heartbreak -- + All he can know is his own; +And she seems hushed to me, + As hushed as though +Her heart were a hunter's fire + Smothered in snow. + + + + +The Silent Battle + +(In Memory of J. W. T. Jr.) + + + +He was a soldier in that fight + Where there is neither flag nor drum, +And without sound of musketry + The stealthy foemen come. + +Year in, year out, by day and night + They forced him to a slow retreat, +And for his gallant fight alone + No fife was blown, and no drum beat. + +In winter fog, in gathering mist + The gray grim battle had its end -- +And at the very last we knew + His enemy had turned his friend. + + + + +The Sanctuary + + + +If I could keep my innermost Me +Fearless, aloof and free +Of the least breath of love or hate, +And not disconsolate +At the sick load of sorrow laid on men; +If I could keep a sanctuary there +Free even of prayer, +If I could do this, then, +With quiet candor as I grew more wise +I could look even at God with grave forgiving eyes. + + + + +At Sea + + + +In the pull of the wind I stand, lonely, + On the deck of a ship, rising, falling, +Wild night around me, wild water under me, + Whipped by the storm, screaming and calling. + +Earth is hostile and the sea hostile, + Why do I look for a place to rest? +I must fight always and die fighting + With fear an unhealing wound in my breast. + + + + +Dust + + + +When I went to look at what had long been hidden, + A jewel laid long ago in a secret place, +I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire -- + But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face. + +I almost gave my life long ago for a thing + That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes -- +It is strange how often a heart must be broken + Before the years can make it wise. + + + + +The Long Hill + + + +I must have passed the crest a while ago + And now I am going down -- +Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know, + But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown. + +All the morning I thought how proud I should be + To stand there straight as a queen, +Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me -- + But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen. + +It was nearly level along the beaten track + And the brambles caught in my gown -- +But it's no use now to think of turning back, + The rest of the way will be only going down. + + + + + + + XI + + + + + + +Summer Storm + + + +The panther wind + Leaps out of the night, +The snake of lightning + Is twisting and white, +The lion of thunder + Roars -- and we +Sit still and content + Under a tree -- +We have met fate together + And love and pain, +Why should we fear + The wrath of the rain! + + + + +In the End + + + +All that could never be said, + All that could never be done, +Wait for us at last + Somewhere back of the sun; + +All the heart broke to forego + Shall be ours without pain, +We shall take them as lightly as girls + Pluck flowers after rain. + +And when they are ours in the end + Perhaps after all +The skies will not open for us + Nor heaven be there at our call. + + + + +"It Will Not Change" + + + +It will not change now + After so many years; +Life has not broken it + With parting or tears; +Death will not alter it, + It will live on +In all my songs for you + When I am gone. + + + + +Change + + + +Remember me as I was then; + Turn from me now, but always see +The laughing shadowy girl who stood + At midnight by the flowering tree, +With eyes that love had made as bright +As the trembling stars of the summer night. + +Turn from me now, but always hear + The muted laughter in the dew +Of that one year of youth we had, + The only youth we ever knew -- +Turn from me now, or you will see +What other years have done to me. + + + + +Water Lilies + + + +If you have forgotten water lilies floating + On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade, +If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance, + Then you can return and not be afraid. + +But if you remember, then turn away forever + To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart, +There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies, + And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart. + + + + +"Did You Never Know?" + + + +Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me -- + That your love would never lessen and never go? +You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted, + You were too young to know. + +Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it + Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year -- +Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking, + I know your secret, my dear, my dear. + + + + +The Treasure + + + +When they see my songs + They will sigh and say, +"Poor soul, wistful soul, + Lonely night and day." + +They will never know + All your love for me +Surer than the spring, + Stronger than the sea; + +Hidden out of sight + Like a miser's gold +In forsaken fields + Where the wind is cold. + + + + +The Storm + + + +I thought of you when I was wakened + By a wind that made me glad and afraid +Of the rushing, pouring sound of the sea + That the great trees made. + +One thought in my mind went over and over + While the darkness shook and the leaves were thinned -- +I thought it was you who had come to find me, + You were the wind. + + + + + + +Songs For Myself + XII + + + + + + +The Tree + + + +Oh to be free of myself, + With nothing left to remember, +To have my heart as bare + As a tree in December; + +Resting, as a tree rests + After its leaves are gone, +Waiting no more for a rain at night + Nor for the red at dawn; + +But still, oh so still + While the winds come and go, +With no more fear of the hard frost + Or the bright burden of snow; + +And heedless, heedless + If anyone pass and see +On the white page of the sky + Its thin black tracery. + + + + +At Midnight + + + +Now at last I have come to see what life is, + Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun, +And the brave victories that seem so splendid + Are never really won. + +Even love that I built my spirit's house for, + Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest, +And music and men's praise and even laughter + Are not so good as rest. + + + + +Song Making + + + +My heart cried like a beaten child + Ceaselessly all night long; +I had to take my own cries + And thread them into a song. + +One was a cry at black midnight + And one when the first cock crew -- +My heart was like a beaten child, + But no one ever knew. + +Life, you have put me in your debt + And I must serve you long -- +But oh, the debt is terrible + That must be paid in song. + + + + +Alone + + + +I am alone, in spite of love, + In spite of all I take and give -- +In spite of all your tenderness, + Sometimes I am not glad to live. + +I am alone, as though I stood + On the highest peak of the tired gray world, +About me only swirling snow, + Above me, endless space unfurled; + +With earth hidden and heaven hidden, + And only my own spirit's pride +To keep me from the peace of those + Who are not lonely, having died. + + + + +Red Maples + + + +In the last year I have learned +How few men are worth my trust; +I have seen the friend I loved +Struck by death into the dust, +And fears I never knew before +Have knocked and knocked upon my door -- +"I shall hope little and ask for less," +I said, "There is no happiness." + +I have grown wise at last -- but how +Can I hide the gleam on the willow-bough, +Or keep the fragrance out of the rain +Now that April is here again? +When maples stand in a haze of fire +What can I say to the old desire, +What shall I do with the joy in me +That is born out of agony? + + + + +Debtor + + + +So long as my spirit still + Is glad of breath +And lifts its plumes of pride + In the dark face of death; +While I am curious still + Of love and fame, +Keeping my heart too high + For the years to tame, +How can I quarrel with fate + Since I can see +I am a debtor to life, + Not life to me? + + + + +The Wind in the Hemlock + + + +Steely stars and moon of brass, +How mockingly you watch me pass! +You know as well as I how soon +I shall be blind to stars and moon, +Deaf to the wind in the hemlock tree, +Dumb when the brown earth weighs on me. + +With envious dark rage I bear, +Stars, your cold complacent stare; +Heart-broken in my hate look up, +Moon, at your clear immortal cup, +Changing to gold from dusky red -- +Age after age when I am dead +To be filled up with light, and then +Emptied, to be refilled again. + +What has man done that only he +Is slave to death -- so brutally +Beaten back into the earth +Impatient for him since his birth? + +Oh let me shut my eyes, close out +The sight of stars and earth and be +Sheltered a minute by this tree. +Hemlock, through your fragrant boughs +There moves no anger and no doubt, +No envy of immortal things. +The night-wind murmurs of the sea +With veiled music ceaselessly, +That to my shaken spirit sings. +From their frail nest the robins rouse, +In your pungent darkness stirred, +Twittering a low drowsy word -- +And me you shelter, even me. +In your quietness you house +The wind, the woman and the bird. +You speak to me and I have heard: + + If I am peaceful, I shall see + Beauty's face continually; + Feeding on her wine and bread + I shall be wholly comforted, + For she can make one day for me + Rich as my lost eternity. + + + + + + +[End of original text.] + + + + +Biographical Note: + + +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), +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. + +---- + +From an anthology of verse by Jessie B. Rittenhouse (1913, 1917): + +"Teasdale, Sara (Mrs. Ernst B. Filsinger). Born in St. Louis, Missouri, +August 10, 1884. Educated at private schools. She is the author +of "Sonnets to Duse", 1907; "Helen of Troy, and Other Poems", 1911; +"Rivers to the Sea", 1915; "Love Songs", 1917. Editor of +"The Answering Voice: A Hundred Love Lyrics by Women", 1917. +Miss Teasdale is a lyric poet of an unusually pure and spontaneous gift." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of Flame and Shadow, by Sara Teasdale + |