Poem by Sara Teasdale

The Ghost

  I went back to the clanging city,
   I went back where my old loves stayed,
  But my heart was full of my new love's glory,
   My eyes were laughing and unafraid.

  I met one who had loved me madly
   And told his love for all to hear--
  But we talked of a thousand things together,
   The past was buried too deep to fear.

  I met the other, whose love was given
   With never a kiss and scarcely a word--
  Oh, it was then the terror took me
   Of words unuttered that breathed and stirred.

  Oh, love that lives its life with laughter
   Or love that lives its life with tears
  Can die--but love that is never spoken
   Goes like a ghost through the winding years. . . .

  I went back to the clanging city,
   I went back where my old loves stayed,
  My heart was full of my new love's glory,--
   But my eyes were suddenly afraid.

1. Morning Song
2. Gray Fog
3. In a Cuban Garden
4. White Fog
5. Spring Torrents

Richard Barham The Ghost ("There stands a City,— neither large nor small")

Print

1865 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version