Sara Teasdale, Blue Squills

How many million Aprils came
Before I ever knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
A bed of squills, how blue.

And many a dancing April
When life is done with me,
Will lift the blue flame of the flower
And the white flame of the tree.

Oh, burn me with your beauty, then,
Oh, hurt me, tree and flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
Even this glistening hour.

O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
O sunlit white and blue,
Wound me, that I through endless sleep
May bear the scar of you.

Sara Teasdale

2 comments on “Sara Teasdale, Blue Squills”

1. IdealisticRebel

   April 29, 2015

   

   I love Teasdale’s work. Thank you for sharing. Hugs, Barbara

   Reply
2. IdealisticRebel

   April 29, 2015

   

   Reblogged this on IdealisticRebel's Daily View of Favorites.

   Reply

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