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    Dark of the Moon
    Dark of the Moon
    Dark of the Moon
    Ebook101 pages18 minutes

    Dark of the Moon

    By Sara Teasdale

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    Over the downs there were birds flying, Far off glittered the sea, And toward the north the weald of Sussex Lay like a kingdom under me. I was happier than the larks That nest on the downs and sing to the sky, Over the downs the birds flying Were not so happy as I. It was not you, though you were near, Though you were good to hear and see, It was not earth, it was not heaven It was myself that sang in me.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPubMe
    Release dateJan 25, 2023
    ISBN9791222055121
    Dark of the Moon
    Author

    Sara Teasdale

    Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) was an American poet. Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Teasdale suffered from poor health as a child before entering school at the age of ten. In 1904, after graduating from Hosmer Hall, Teasdale joined the group of female artists known as The Potters, who published The Potter’s Wheel, a monthly literary and visual arts magazine, from 1904 to 1907. With her first two collections—Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems (1907) and Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911)—Teasdale earned a reputation as a gifted lyric poet from critics and readers alike. In 1916, following the publication of her bestselling Rivers to the Sea (1915), she moved to New York City with her husband Ernst Filsinger. There, she won the 1918 Pulitzer Prize for Love Songs (1917), her fourth collection. Frustrated with Filsinger’s prolonged absences while traveling for work, she divorced him in 1929 and moved to another apartment in the Upper West Side. Renewing her friendship with poet Vachel Lindsay, she continued to write and publish poems until her death by suicide in 1933.

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      Book preview

      Dark of the Moon - Sara Teasdale

      I THERE WILL BE STARS

      decoration

      On the Sussex Downs

      decoration

      Over the downs there were birds flying,

      Far off glittered the sea,

      And toward the north the weald of Sussex

      Lay like a kingdom under me.

      I was happier than the larks

      That nest on the downs and sing to the sky,

      Over the downs the birds flying

      Were not so happy as I.

      It was not you, though you were near,

      Though you were good to hear and see,

      It was not earth, it was not heaven

      It was myself that sang in me.

      August Night

      decoration

      On a midsummer night, on a night that was eerie with stars,

      In a wood too deep for a single star to look through,

      You led down a path whose turnings you knew in the darkness,

      But the scent of the dew-dripping cedars was all that I knew.

      I drank of the darkness, I was fed with the honey of fragrance,

      I was glad of my life, the drawing of breath was sweet;

      I heard your voice, you said, Look down, see the glow-worm!

      It was there before me, a small star white at my feet.

      We watched while it brightened as though it were breathed on and burning,

      This tiny creature moving over earth’s floor—

      "‘ L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle ,’"

      You said, and no more.

      Two Minds

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      Your mind and mine are such great lovers they

      Have freed themselves from cautious human clay,

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