In A Burying Ground

This is the spot where I will be
When life has had enough of me,
These are the trees that will grow
Above me like a living sea.
These gay old lilies will not shrink
To draw their life from death of mine,
And I will give my body's fire
To make blue flowers on this vine.

"Oh Soul" I said, "have you no tears"?

"Was not the body dear to you"?

I heard my Soul say carelesly,

"The myrtle flowers will grow more blue."

--- Sarah Teasdale

Those Who Love The Most

Those who love the most,
Do not talk of their love,
Francesca, Guinevere,
Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
In the fragrant gardens of heaven
Are silent, or speak if at all
Of fragile inconsequent things.

And a woman I used to know
Who loved one man from her youth,
Against the strength of the fates
Fighting in somber pride
Never spoke of this thing,
But hearing his name by chance,
A light would pass over her face.

Gifts

I gave my first love laughter,

I gave my second tears,

I gave my third love silence,

Through all the years.

My first love gave me singing,

My second eyes to see,

But oh, it was my third love

Who gave my soul to me.

SARAH TEASDALE