Love Songs

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Title: Love Songs

Author: Sara Teasdale

Language: English

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.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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