Poem by Sara Teasdale

Moonlight

It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight burned
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
It is the happy heart that breaks.
The heart asks more than life can give,
When that is learned, then all is learned;
The waves break fold on jewelled fold,
But beauty itself is fugitive,
It will not hurt me when I am old.

1. The Flight
2. Songs out of Sorrow
3. April Song
4. I Would Live in Your Love
5. Ebb Tide

Henry Longfellow Moonlight ("As a pale phantom with a lamp")

Print

1217 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version