Saturday, 2 January 2010


'Oh you are coming, coming, coming,
How will hungry Time put by the hours till then? --

But why does it anger my heart to long so
For one man out of the world of men?

Oh I would live in myself only
And build my life lightly and still as a dream --
Are not my thoughts clearer than your thoughts
And colored like stones in a running stream?

Now the slow moon brightens in heaven,
the stars are ready, the night is here --
Oh why must I lose myself to love you
My dear?'

Sara Teasdale

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