SARA TEASDALE

A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.

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.

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

Call him wise whose actions, words, and steps are all a clear because to a clear why.

There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.

I make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.

No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.

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

Life is but thought.

Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.

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

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.

I found more joy in sorrow than you could find in joy.

Of my own spirit let me be in sole though feeble mastery.

Oh who can tell the range of joy or set the bounds of beauty?

Wisdom is not acquired save as the result of investigation.

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 prideTo keep me from the peace of those Who are not lonely, having died.

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.

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.

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.

My heart is a garden tired with autumn.

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 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.

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.

Only by love is life made real.