Poems by Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) is one of my favorite poets. Her poems are written in simple but beautiful language, and speak of love, loss, hope and the deepest desires of the human heart. 

 February Twilight

I stood beside a hill
Smooth with new-laid snow,
A single star looked out
From the cold evening glow.

There was no other creature
That saw what I could see
I stood and watched the evening star
As long as it watched me.

Courtesy of public-domain-poetry.com

Woman Getting On A Broadway Car  (1913) (From Bain Collection- Library of Congress)

 The Old Maid

I saw her in a Broadway car,

The woman I might grow to be;

I felt my lover look at her

And then turn suddenly to me.

Her hair was dull and drew no light

And yet its color was as mine;

Her eyes were strangely like my eyes

Tho' love had never made them shine.

Her body was a thing grown thin,

Hungry for love that never came;

Her soul was frozen in the dark

Unwarmed forever by love's flame.

I felt my lover look at her

And then turn suddenly to me,--

His eyes were magic to defy

The woman I shall never be.

 From Rivers to the Sea (1922)

Photo by Bain News Service  (Courtesy of Library of Congress)

 

The Lighted Window

He said:

"In the winter dusk

When the pavements were  gleaming with rain,

I walked thru a dingy street

Hurried, harassed, 

Thinking of all my problems that are never solved.

Suddenly out of the mist, a flaring gas-jet

Shone from a huddled shop. 

I saw thru the bleary window

A mass of playthings:

False-faces hung on strings,

Valentines, paper and tinsel,

Tops of scarlet and green,

Candy, marbles, jacks--

A confusion of color

Pathetically gaudy and cheap. 

All of my boyhood

Rushed back.

Once more these things were treasures

Wildly desired.

With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles,

The precious agates, the pee-wees, the chinies--

Then I passed on.

In the winter dusk,

The pavements were gleaming with rain;

There in the lighted window

I left my boyhood."

 From Rivers to the Sea (1922)

 

source

 

Winter Stars

I went out at night alone;

The young blood flowing beyond the sea

Seemed to have drenched my spirit's wings--

I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head

From shadows shaken on the snow,

I saw Orion in the east

Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father's house,

Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,

 I watched Orion as a girl

Above another city's lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,

The world's heart breaks beneath its wars, 

All things are changed, save in the east

The faithful beauty of the stars.

From Flame and Shadow (1920)

Orion (source)

 

 In Memoriam F.O.S.

You go a long and lovely journey,

For all the stars, like burning dew,

Are luminous and luring footprints

Of souls adventurous as you.

Oh, if you lived on earth elated,

How is it now that you can run

Free of the weight of flesh and faring

Far past the birthplace of the sun? 

From Rivers to the Sea (1922)

 

February Flower--The Crocus

Yellow Crocuses

February 1st is about halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It is celebrated today as St. Brigid's Day in Ireland, which honors one of Ireland's patron saints, St. Brigid (or St. Brigit) of Kildare (circa 453-524 A.D.) It is also the date of the ancient Gaelic festival of Imbolc (or Imbolg), historically observed in Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man, which marked the beginning of Spring. Although many of the ancient Imbolc customs died out by the 20th century, the seasonal festival is still  recognized, and ancient traditions are still practiced in some areas. 

St. Brigid of Kildare (source)

We're still in the middle of winter here in southeastern Pennsylvania. Although it's been mostly above freezing this past week, piles of snow still remain from the Blizzard of 2016. But I always feel a little bit of hope at the beginning of February, that spring can't be too far away. Already the days are getting just a little bit longer, and this month we'll get to see our first spring flowers--the crocuses.

Photo by Christa Regina (source)

Crocus is a genus of flowering plants in the iris family. There are about 90 species, which bloom in various parts of the world at different times of the year. The seasoning saffron is harvested from a number of different species, including Crocus sativus, which has been cultivated in the Mediterranean since ancient times. 

Saffron Gatherers Appear in Minoan Frescoes on the Island of Santorini in the Aegean Sea (1600-1500 B.C.E) (source)

Several species of ornamental crocuses are popular with gardeners in North America and Europe, and are mostly yellow, white or shades of purple, although some varieties are available in colors including pink and orange. Crocuses are all about two to four inches tall. Snow crocuses are the first to bloom; Dutch crocuses are larger and bloom somewhat later. 

Photo by Listje (source)

Crocus flowers and leaves are protected from frost by a waxy cuticle, and they can often be seen blooming through the snow. The strong scent of many crocuses lures sleepy bees from their hives as early as February or March. Crocuses naturalize, meaning that they grow and spread, with minimal care, and return each year to add striking color to the dull winter landscape.

Crocuses In the Snow  (Photo by Ralph Hauser) (source)

Crocuses have always been celebrated as an early sign of spring and of hope. In the romantic Victorian "language of flowers", lovers could use flowers symbolically to send each other secret messages. Crocuses symbolized youth and gladness, and they are featured in the following poem and vintage illustrations.

Three White Crocuses and Violets (courtesy of tuckdb.org)

Birthday Card (1921) (courtesy of tuckdb.org)

 

Two Pretty Girls Driving In A Snowstorm, White Crocuses Below (courtesy of tuckdb.org)

Sundial In Garden With Crocuses--Scotland (1908) by Mary G. W. Wilson (Courtesy of Library of Congress)

Pot of Purple and White Crocuses (1905) (courtesy of tuckdb.org)