Sonnets to Duse 
 
 BY 
 
 SARA TEASDALE 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BEQUEST 
 
 OF 
 ANITA D. S. BLAKE 
 
Sonnets to Duse 
 
 and other Poems 
 
 By 
 
 SARA TEASDALE 
 
 Arti etl^fVeritati 
 
 Boston 
 THE POET LORE COMPANY 
 
 Publishers 
 
 1907 
 
Copyright 1907 by Sara Teasdale 
 All rights rtserved 
 
 Tk* Gorham Preu, BoHo*, Mu*. t U. S. A. 
 
To 
 
 My Father and Mother 
 
CONTENTS 
 To Duse 
 
 To Eleonora Duse Q 
 
 To Eleonora Duse IO 
 
 To Eleonora Duse in " The Dead City" II 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse in " The Dead 
 City," 12 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse in " The Dead 
 
 City," 13 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse as "Francesca 
 da Rimini" 14 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse 15 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse with the Greek 
 Fire in st Francesca da Rimini" 1 6 
 
 A Song to Eleonora Duse in "Francesca da 
 Rimini" 17 
 
Poems and Sonnets 
 
 To "Japanese Incense 21 
 
 To Sappho, 1 23 
 
 To Sappho, II 24 
 
 ToL.R.E 25 
 
 The Meeting *. 26 
 
 The Gift 27 
 
 Dead Love 28 
 
 The Love that Goes A-begging 29 
 
 Song 31 
 
 Wishes 33 
 
 Dusk in Autumn 35 
 
 In David's ''Child's Garden of ferses" . . . . 36 
 
 Triolets 37 
 
 Sonnet 38 
 
 Dream Song 39 
 
 To Joy 40 
 
 Roses and Rue 41 
 
 The Heart's House 42 
 
 The House of Dreams 43 
 
 Faults 44 
 
SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
SONNETS TO DUSE 9 
 
 To Eleonora Duse 
 
 Oh beauty that is filled so full of tears, 
 Where every passing anguish left its trace, 
 I pray you grant to me this depth of grace: 
 That I may see before it disappears, 
 Blown through the gateway of our hopes and 
 
 fears 
 
 To death's insatiable last embrace, 
 The glory and the sadness of your face, 
 Its longing unappeased through all the years. 
 No bitterness beneath your sorrow clings; 
 Within the wild dark falling of your hair 
 There lies a strength that ever soars and sings; 
 Your mouth's mute weariness is not despair. 
 Perhaps among us craven earth-born things 
 God loves its silence better than a prayer. 
 
io SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To Eleonora Duse 
 
 Your beauty lives in mystic melodies, 
 And all the light about you breathes a song. 
 Your voice awakes the dreaming airs that throng 
 Within our music-haunted memories: 
 The sirens' strain that sank within the seas 
 When men forgot to listen, floats along 
 Your voice's undercurrent soft and strong. 
 Sicilian shepherds pipe beneath the trees; 
 Along the purple hills of drifted sand, 
 A lone Egyptian plays an ancient flute; 
 At dawn the Memnon gives his old salute 
 Beside the Nile, by desert breezes fanned. 
 The music faints about you as you stand, 
 And with the Orphean lay it trembles mute. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS n 
 
 To Eleonora Duse in "The Dead City " 
 
 Were you a Greek when all the world was young, 
 Before the weary years that pass and pass, 
 Had scattered all the temples on the grass, 
 Before the moss to marble columns clung ? 
 I think your snowy tunic must have hung 
 As now your gown does wave on wave a mass 
 Of woven water. As within a glass 
 I see your face when Homer's tales were sung. 
 Alcaeus kissed your mouth and found it sweet, 
 And Sappho's hand has lingered in your hand. 
 You half remember Lesbos as you stand 
 Where all the times and countries mix and meet, 
 And lay your weight of beauty at our feet, 
 A garland gathered in a distant land. 
 
12 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse 
 in "The Dead City 1 ' 
 
 Your face is set against a fervent sky, 
 Before the thirsty hills that sevenfold 
 Return the sun's hot glory, gold on gold, 
 Where Agamemnon and Cassandra lie. 
 Your eyes are blind whose light shall never die, 
 And all the tears the closed eyelids hold, 
 And all the longing that the eyes have told, 
 Is gathered in the lips that make no cry. 
 Yea, like a flower within a desert place, 
 Whose petals fold and fade for lack of rain, 
 Are these, your eyes, where joy of sight was slain, 
 And in the silence of your lifted face, 
 The cloud is rent that hides a sleeping race, 
 And vanished Grecian beauty lives again. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 13 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse 
 in "The Dead City" 
 
 Carved in the silence by the hand of Pain, 
 
 And made more perfect by the gift of Peace, 
 
 Than if Delight had bid your sorrow cease, 
 
 And brought the dawn to where the dark has lain, 
 
 And set a smile upon your lips again; 
 
 Oh strong and noble! Tho' your woes increase, 
 
 The gods shall hear no crying for release, 
 
 Nor see the tremble that your lips restrain. 
 
 Alone as all the chosen are alone, 
 
 Yet one with all the beauty of the past; 
 
 A sister to the noblest that we know, 
 
 The Venus carved in Melos long ago, 
 
 Yea, speak to her, and at your lightest tone, 
 
 Her lips will part and words will come at last. 
 
14 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse as "Francesco 
 da Rimini " 
 
 Oh flower-sweet face and bended flower-like 
 
 head! 
 
 Oh violet whose purple cannot pale, 
 Or forest fragrance ever faint or fail, 
 Or breath and beauty pass among the dead! 
 Yea, very truly has the poet said, 
 No mist of years or might of death avail 
 To darken beauty brighter thro' the veil 
 We see the glimmer of its wings outspread. 
 Oh face embowered and shadowed by thy hair, 
 Some lotus blossom on a darkened stream! 
 If ever I have pictured in a dream 
 My guardian angel, she is like to this, 
 Her eyes know joy, yet sorrow lingers there, 
 And on her lips the shadow of a kiss. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 15 
 
 "To a Picture of Eleonora Duse 
 
 Was ever any face like this before 
 
 So light a veiling for the soul within, 
 
 So pure and yet so pitiful for sin ? 
 
 They say the soul will pass the Heavy Door, 
 
 And yearning upward, learn creation's lore 
 
 The body buried|'neath the earthly din. 
 
 But thine shall live forever, it hath been 
 
 So near the soul, and shall be evermore. 
 
 Oh eyes that see so far thro* misted tears, 
 
 Oh Death, behold, these eyes can never die! 
 
 Yea, tho 5 your kiss shall rob these lips of breath, 
 
 Their faint, sad smile will still elude thee, Death. 
 
 Behold the perfect flower this neck uprears, 
 
 And bow thy head and pass the wonder by. 
 
16 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To a Picture of Eleonora Duse with the Greek 
 Fire, in " Francesca da Rimini " 
 
 Francesca's life that was a limpid flame 
 Agleam against the shimmer of a sword, 
 Which falling, quenched the flame in blood 
 
 outpoured 
 
 To free the house of Rimino from shame 
 Francesca's death that blazed aloft her name 
 In guilty fadeless glory, hurling toward 
 The windy darkness where the tempest roared, 
 Her spirit burdened by the weight of blame 
 Francesca's life and death are mirrored here 
 Forever, on the face of her who stands 
 Illumined and intent beside the blaze, 
 Grown one with it, and reading without fear 
 That they shall fare upon the selfsame ways, 
 Plucked forth and cast away by bloody hands. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 17 
 
 A Song to Eleonora Duse in " Francesca da 
 Rimini " 
 
 Oh would I were the roses, that lie against her 
 
 hands, 
 The heavy burning roses she touches as she 
 
 stands! 
 
 Dear hands that hold the roses, where mine 
 
 would love to be, 
 Oh leave, oh leave the roses, and hold the hands 
 
 of me! 
 
 She draws the heart from out them, she draws 
 
 away their breath, 
 Oh would that I might perish and find so sweet 
 
 a death! 
 
POEMS AND SONNETS 
 
POEMS AND SONNETS 21 
 
 To Japanese Incense 
 
 The wind that rings the temple bell 
 
 Is far away, 
 And far the brazen incense urns 
 
 Of ashes grey. 
 
 And far the carven temple gates 
 
 Of red and gold 
 The dreamy temples where the gods 
 
 Have long been old. 
 
 The dragonflies and irises 
 
 Beside the stream, 
 Are far away in lands of dawn 
 
 And lands of dream. 
 
22 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 And here beneath an alien sky 
 Your breath ascends, 
 
 A column delicate and grey 
 That waves and bends, 
 
 And lifts a scent of sandal-wood, 
 
 Devoid of prayer, 
 To seek an ancient Eastern god 
 
 Thro* Western air. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 23 
 
 To Sappho 
 
 I 
 
 Impassioned singer of the happy time 
 When all the world was waking into morn, 
 And dew still glistened on the tangled thorn, 
 And lingered on the branches of the lime 
 Oh peerless singer of the golden rhyme, 
 Happy wert thou to live ere doubt was born 
 Before the joy of life was half out-worn, 
 And nymphs and satyrs vanished from your 
 
 clime. 
 
 Then maidens bearing parsley in their hands 
 Wound thro' the groves to where the goddess 
 
 stands, 
 
 And mariners might sail for unknown lands 
 Past sea-clasped islands veiled in mystery 
 And Venus still was shining from the sea, 
 And Ceres had not lost Persephone. 
 
24 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To Sappho 
 II 
 
 Your lines that linger for us down the years. 
 Like sparks that tell the glory of a flame, 
 Still keep alight the splendor of your name, 
 And living still, they sting us into tears. 
 
 Sole perfect singer that the world has heard,. 
 
 Let fall from that far heaven of thine 
 
 One golden word. 
 
 Oh tell us we shall find beside the Nile, 
 Held fast in some Egyptian's dusty hand, 
 Deep covered by the centuries of sand, 
 The songs long written that were lost awhile 
 
 Sole perfect singer that the world has heard,. 
 
 Let fall from that far heaven of thine 
 
 This golden word. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 25 
 
 To L. R. E. 
 
 When first I saw you felt you take my hand, 
 I could not speak for happiness to find 
 How more than all they said your heart was kind, 
 How strong you were, and quick to understand 
 I dared not say: "I who am least of those 
 Who call you friend, I love you, and I crave 
 A little love that I may be more brave 
 Because one watches me who cares and knows." 
 So, silent, long ago I used to look 
 High up along the shelves at one great book, 
 And longed to see its contents, childishwise, 
 And now I know it for my Poet's own, 
 So sometime shall I know you and be known, 
 And looking upward, I shall find your eyes. 
 
26 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 The Meeting 
 
 I'm happy, I'm happy, 
 
 I saw my love to-day. 
 
 He came along the crowded street, 
 
 By all the ladies gay, 
 
 And oh, he smiled and spoke to me 
 
 Before he went his way. 
 
 My throat was tight with happiness, 
 
 I couldn't say a word, 
 
 My heart was beating fast, so fast 
 
 I'm sure he must have heard; 
 
 And when he passed, I trembled like 
 
 A little frightened bird. 
 
 I wish I were the flower-girl 
 Who waits beside the way 
 I'd give my flowers all to him 
 And see him every day ; 
 I wish I were the flower-girl 
 Who waits beside the way. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 27 
 
 The Gift 
 
 What can I give you, my lord, my lover, 
 You who have given the world to me, 
 Showed me the light and the joy that cover 
 The wild sweet earth and the restless sea ? 
 
 All that I have are gifts of your giving 
 If I gave them again, you would find them old, 
 And your soul would weary of always living 
 Before the mirror my life would hold. 
 
 What shall I give you, my lord, my lover ? 
 The gift that breaks the heart in me: 
 I bid you awake at dawn and discover 
 I have gone my way and left you free. 
 
28 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 Dead Love 
 
 God let me listen to your voice, 
 And look upon you for a space 
 And then he took your voice away, 
 And dropped a veil before your face. 
 
 God let me look within your eyes, 
 And touch for once your clinging hand, 
 And then he left me all alone, 
 And took you to the Silent Land. 
 
 I cannot weep, I cannot pray, 
 My heart has very silent grown, 
 I only watch how God gives love, 
 And then leaves lovers all alone. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 29 
 
 The Love that Goes A-begging 
 
 Oh Loves there are that enter in, 
 And Loves there are that wait, 
 And Loves that sit a-weeping 
 Whose joy will come too late. 
 
 For some there be that ope their doors, 
 And some there be that close, 
 And Love must go a-begging, 
 But whither, no one knows. 
 
 His feet are on the thorny ways, 
 And on the dew-cold grass, 
 No ears have ever heard him sing, 
 No eyes have seen him pass. 
 
30 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 And yet he wanders thro* the world 
 And makes the meadows sweet, 
 For all his tears and weariness 
 Have flowered beneath his feet. 
 
 The little purple violet 
 Has marked his wanderings, 
 And in the wind among the trees, 
 You hear the song he sings. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 31 
 
 Song 
 
 Like some rare queen of old romance 
 Who loved the gleam of helm and lance 
 
 Is she. 
 
 A harper of King Arthur's days 
 Should praise her in a hundred lays: 
 The queen of Love and Chivalry 
 O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie. 
 
 And crown-wise plaited is her hair, 
 No crown of woven gold more fair 
 
 Could be. 
 
 And very queen-like, too, the smile 
 That lightens every little while 
 A face too fair for men to see, 
 O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie. 
 
32 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 She is not over kind, I know ; 
 The queens were gracious long ago, 
 
 Ah me! 
 
 Queen Guenevere would give a kiss 
 Ofttimes to Launcelot, I wis 
 I would that I were loved as he! 
 O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 33 
 
 Wnkn 
 
 I wish for such a lot of things 
 That never will come true 
 And yet I want them all so much 
 I think they might, don't you ? 
 
 I want a little kitty-cat 
 That's soft and tame and sweet, 
 And every day I watch and hope 
 I'll find one in the street. 
 
 But nursie says, "Come, walk along, 
 "Don't stand and stare like that" 
 I'm only looking hard and hard 
 To try to find my cat. 
 
34 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 And then I want a blue balloon 
 That tries to fly away, 
 I thought if I wished hard enough 
 That it would come some day. 
 
 One time when I was in the park 
 I knew that it would be 
 Beside the big old clock at home 
 A-waiting there for me 
 
 ? 
 
 And soon as we got home again, 
 
 I hurried thro* the hall, 
 
 And looked beside the big old clock 
 
 It wasn't there at all. 
 
 Ijthink I'll never wish again 
 But then, what shall I do ? 
 The wishes are a lot of fun 
 Altho' they don't come true. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 35 
 
 Dusk in Autumn 
 
 The moon is like a scimitar, 
 A little silver scimitar, 
 A-drifting down the sky. 
 And near beside it is a star, 
 A timid twinkling golden star, 
 That watches like an eye. 
 
 And thro* the nursery window-pane 
 The witches have a fire again, 
 Just like the ones we make, 
 And now I know they're having tea, 
 I wish they'd give a cup to me, 
 With witches' currant cake. 
 
36 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 In David's "Child's Garden of Verses 
 
 The dearest child in all the world, 
 Should have the dearest songs, 
 
 And that is why this little book 
 To David-Boy belongs. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 37 
 
 Triolets 
 
 Before a lonely shrine 
 Of foam-born Aphrodite, 
 Ungarlanded of vine, 
 Undyed by dripping wine, 
 I brought green bay to twine, 
 And prayed to her, almighty, 
 And lo, the prayer of mine 
 Was heard of Aphrodite. 
 
 I sang of answered prayer, 
 And now before the goddess, 
 The maids lay flowers rare, 
 And she has ceased to care 
 For bay that I might bear. 
 To heal my heart's distress, 
 My feet must wander where 
 There waits some lonelier goddess. 
 
38 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 Sonnet 
 
 I saw a ship sail forth at evening time; 
 Her prow was gilded by the western fire, 
 And all her rigging one vast golden lyre, 
 For winds to play on to the ocean's rhyme 
 Of wave on wave forever singing low. 
 She floated on a web of burnished gold, 
 And in such light as praying men behold 
 Cling round a vision, were her sails aglow. 
 I saw her come again when dawn was grey, 
 Her wonder faded and her splendor dead 
 She whom I loved once had upon her way 
 A light most like the sunset. Now 'tis sped. 
 And this is saddest what seemed wondrous fair 
 Are now but straight pale lips, and dull gold hair . 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 39 
 
 Dream Song 
 
 I plucked a snow-drop in the spring, 
 And in my hand too closely pressed; 
 The warmth had hurt the tender thing, 
 I grieved to see it withering. 
 
 I gave my love a poppy red, 
 And laid it on her snow-cold breast; 
 But poppies need a warmer bed, 
 We wept to find the flower was dead. 
 
40 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 To 'Joy 
 
 Lo, I am happy, for my eyes have seen 
 Joy glowing here before me, face to face; 
 His wings were arched above me for a space, 
 I kissed his lips, no bitter came between. 
 The air is vibrant where his feet have been, 
 And full of song and color is his place. 
 His wondrous presence sheds about a grace 
 That lifts and hallows all that once was mean. 
 I may not sorrow for I saw the light, 
 Tho* I shall walk in valley ways for long, 
 I still shall hear the echo of the song, 
 My life is measured by its one great height. 
 Joy holds more grace than pain can ever give, 
 And by my glimpse of joy my soul shall live. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 41 
 
 Roses and Rue 
 
 Bring me the roses white and red, 
 
 And take the laurel leaves away; 
 Yea, wreathe the roses round my head 
 
 That wearies 'neath the crown of bay. 
 
 " We searched the wintry forests thro* 
 
 And found no roses anywhere 
 But we have brought a little rue 
 
 To twine a circlet for your hair." 
 
 I would not pluck the rose in May, 
 
 I wove a laurel crown instead; 
 And when the crown is cast away, 
 
 They bring me rue the rose is dead. 
 
42 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 The Heart's House 
 
 My heart is but a little house 
 With room for only three or four, 
 And it was filled before you knocked 
 Upon the door. 
 
 I longed to bid you come within, 
 I knew that I should love you well, 
 But if you came the rest must go 
 Elsewhere to dwell. 
 
 For you would never be content 
 With just a corner in my room, 
 Yea, if you came the rest must go 
 Into the gloom. 
 
 And so, farewell, O friend, my friend! 
 Nay, I could weep a little too, 
 But I shall only smile and say 
 Farewell to you. 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 43 
 
 The House of Dreams 
 
 I built a little House of Dreams, 
 
 And fenced it all about, 
 But still I heard the Wind of Truth 
 
 That roared without. 
 
 I laid a fire of Memories 
 
 And sat before the glow, 
 But through the chinks and round the door 
 
 The wind would blow. 
 
 I left the House, for all the night 
 
 I heard the Wind of Truth; 
 I followed where it seemed to lead 
 
 Through all my youth. 
 
 But when I sought the House of Dreams, 
 
 To creep within and die, 
 The Wind of Truth had levelled it, 
 
 And passed it by. 
 
44 SONNETS TO DUSE 
 
 Faults 
 
 They came to tell your faults to me, 
 They named them over one by one, 
 I laughed aloud when they were done; 
 I knew them all so well before, 
 Oh they were blind, too blind to see 
 Your faults had made me love you more. 
 
j 
 
 56