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Rivers to the Sea

Sara Teasdale

Book Overview: 

This is Sara Teasdale's third published collection of poetry, and contains the famous poem "I Shall Not Care", the melancholy and dark tone of which is often connected with her suicide in 1933.

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Book Excerpt: 
. . .And when you come to take it from my head,
     I shall not weep, nor will a word be said,
  But I shall kneel before you, oh my king,
     And bind my brow forever with a thorn.

TO A CASTILIAN SONG

  WE held the book together timidly,
     Whose antique music in an alien tongue
     Once rose among the dew-drenched vines that hung
  Beneath a high Castilian balcony.
  I felt the lute strings' ancient ecstasy,
     And while he read, my love-filled heart was stung,
     And throbbed, as where an ardent bird has clung
  The branches tremble on a blossomed tree.
  Oh lady for whose sake the song was made,
  Laid long ago in some still cypress shade,
&. . . Read More

Community Reviews

I became her fan after reading her book 'Love Songs' and this book too had some of the poems she has written in the love songs. I loved all of them. If you are someone who enjoys reading poetry, then Sara Teasdale should be on your list as her words will fill your heart with hope and love.

“How many times we must have met
Here on the street as strangers do,
Children of chance we were, who passed
The door of heaven and never knew.”

"Oh, gray bells cease your tolling,
Time takes too much from me,
And yet to rock and river
He gives eternity."

Rivers to the Sea was a volume of poetry by Sara Teas

Boring, a few nice ones here and there but mostly just random gibberish.

Lost a star for that one line about burning gays

Morning

I went out on an April morning
All alone, for my heart was high,
I was a child of the shining meadow,
I was a sister of the sky

There in the windy floor of morning
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.

Except from From the Woolwo

My fav poet! I’m so happy to have found an old print edition of RIVERS TO THE SEA. Though my book says it was printed in 1915. And given as a gift to the purchaser’s wife in 1918.

Sara Teasdale is officially one of my favorite poets.

What her poems lack in complexity, they make up for in genuine emotion. She may tiptoe up and down the line of sentimentality, but as far as I'm concerned, she does no more than let one toe across the line. Her best work is along the theme of lost love.

Sara Teasdale's poems are like lace doilies--quaint and old-fashioned, even sentimental, but sweet and impressive for their unsophisticated intricacy and emphatic prettiness.

INDIAN SUMMER

Lyric night of the lingering Indian summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird,

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