Dark of the Moon
1926
Dark of the Moon is a collection of poetry by Sara Teasdale, first published in 1926. This notable work showcases Teasdale's lyrical style, exploring themes of love, nature, and introspection through vivid imagery. The poems reflect on the complexities of human experience, capturing fleeting beauty and existential themes such as life and mortality. Teasdale's emotional depth and clarity have made this collection a significant contribution to 20th-century American poetry.
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“There will be stars over the place forever;Though the house we loved and the street we loved are lost,Every time the earth circles her orbitOn the night the autumn equinox is crossed,Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of midnightWill reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;There will be stars over the place forever,There will be stars forever, while we sleep.””
— Sara Teasdale
“I saw above a sea of hillsA solitary planet shine,And there was no one, near or far,to keep the world from being mine.””
— Sara Teasdale
“I heard the water-fall rejoiceSinging like a choir,I saw the sun flash out of itAzure and amber fire. The earth was like an open flowerEnamelled and arrayed, The path I took to find its heartFluttered with sun and shade.And while earth lured me, gently, gently,Happy and all alone,Suddenly a heavy snakeReared black upon a stone.””
— Sara Teasdale
“Let it be you who lean above meOn my last day,Let it be you who shut my eyelidsForever and aye.Say a “Good-night” as you have said itAll of these years,With the old look, with the old whisperAnd without tears.You will know then all that in silenceYou always knew,Though I have loved, I loved no otherAs I love you.””
— Sara Teasdale
“When I am not with youI am alone,For there is no one elseAnd there is nothingThat comforts me but you.When you are goneSuddenly I am sick,Blackness is round me,There is nothing left.I have tried many things,Music and cities,Stars in their constellationsAnd the sea,But there is nothingThat comforts me but you;And my poor pride bows downLike grass in a rain-stormDrenched with my longing.The night is unbearable,Oh let me go to youFor there is no one,There is nothingTo comfort me but you.””
— Sara Teasdale
“I stood beside a hillSmooth with new-laid snow,A single star looked outFrom the cold evening glow.There was no other creatureThat saw what I could see”
— Sara Teasdale
“I shall gather myself into myself again,I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,Fusing them into a polished crystal ballWhere I can see the moon and the flashing sun.I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,Watching the future come and the present go,And the little shifting pictures of people rushingIn restless self-importance to and fro.””
— Sara Teasdale
“Not by the sea, but somewhere in the hills,Not by the sea, but in the uplands surelyThere must be rest where a dim pool demurelyWatches all night the stern slow-moving skies;Not by the sea, that never was appeased,Not by the sea, whose immemorial longingShames the tired earth where even longing dies,Not by the sea that bore Iseult and Helen,But in a dark green hollow of the hillsThere must be sleep, even for sleepless eyes.””
— Sara Teasdale
