To Love
May
Sara Teasdale
The wind is tossing the lilacs,
The new leaves laugh in the sun,
And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.
Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled in April
Is false to me in May.
“I left my dreams with broken strings
It's time I learnt to talk
Stop falling over things
Teach myself to walk
I'm not a superman
Or Mr. wonderful, because
I'm the fool I never
thought I was.”
“Same mistake that I made before
I'll be waking up
On the kinlin' floor
While the bells are ringing
So low and sad
Thought the next time around
Wouldn't be so bad”
Looking at the rain
Feeling the pain
Of love lost running though
My brain
Looking at the wind
Watching it spin
The leaves along the street
You win
Waiting for a line to fall
Telling you it's all a big mistake
Looking at a face
So out of place
Inside that picture frame
Of lace
Looking at the wall
Wishing you'd call
And tell me you're OK
That's all
From La Belle Dame sans Merci:
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed - Ah! woe betide! -
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried - 'La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.
And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
From all the joys of love, shalt see
The full reward and glorious fate
Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
Then curse thine own inconstancy.
A fairer hand than thine shall cure
That heart, which thy false oaths did wound;
And to my soul, a soul more pure
Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound,
And both with equal glory crown'd.
