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Sara Teasdale 1884-1933 |
This post goes out to my sweet friend of many years, Laura Kvasnosky, who recently gave me a slim volume of poetry by Sara Teasdale, published in 1926, and titled Dark of the Moon. Here is my favorite poem from it:
On the Sussex Downs
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 the earth, it was not heaven,
It was myself that sang in me.
--Sara Teasdale
I've always thought memorizing poems was a fine thing to do, and I recommend this one for memorization. It seems to me as golden as any prayer to say each night as you fall asleep or each morning as you get up.
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The Poetry Friday Round-up is being hosted this week by Donna over at Mainely Write. Head over there to see what other people have posted.