Sara Teasdale Quotes
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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.
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O beauty, are you not enough; why am I crying after love.
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Joy was a flame in me Too steady to destroy. Lithe as a bending reed, Loving the storm that sways her
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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.
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What we have never had, remains; It is the things we have that go.