Those who love the most,Do not talk of their love,Francesca, Guinevere,Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,In the fragrant gardens of heavenAre silent, or speak if at allOf fragile inconsequent things. And a woman I used to knowWho loved one man from her youth,Against the strength of the fatesFighting in somber prideNever spoke of this thing,But hearing his name… Continue reading Sara Teasdale
For it is love that I am seeking for,But of a beautiful, unheard-of kindThat is not in the world. — W.B. Yeats, from The Shadowy Waters: A Dramatic Poem (BBC, 1959)
I kiss you and the world begins to fade. – W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart’s Desire ( Jennings Press, August 25, 2008) Originally published 1894.
near me,Come near, come near, come near — Ah, leave me stillA little space for the rose–breath to fill! — W.B. Yeats, from “To the Rose upon the Rood of Time,” The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (Scribner; 2nd Revised edition, September 9, 1996) Originally published 1950.
Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. — Thomas Moore, from “The Light of Other Days,” The Oxford Book of English Verse 1250–1918. Editor: Arthur Quiller-Couch. (Oxford University Press March 26, 1963)
Like barley bendingIn low fields by the sea,Singing in hard windCeaselessly; Like barley bendingAnd rising again,So would I, unbroken,Rise from pain; So would I softly,Day long, night long,Change my sorrowInto song. – Sara Teasdale, “Like Barley Bending,” Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Sara Teasdale (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series Book 77) February 20, 2018,
I bring you with reverent handsThe books of my numberless dreams. — W.B. Yeats, from “A Poet to His Beloved,” The Wind Among the Reeds. (Woodstock Books September 1994) Originally published December 1899.
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. —Sara Teasdale, “The Look,” Love Songs. (BookSurge Classics May 1, 2009) Originally published 1917. First… Continue reading Sara Teasdale
I know that I shall meet my fate / Somewhere among the clouds above; / Those that I fight I do not hate / Those that I guard I do not love. ― W.B. Yeats, from “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death,” The Wild Swans at Coole. (Andesite Press August 8, 2015) Originally published 1919.
The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the… Continue reading W.B. Yeats