by Sara Teasdale
There will be rest, and sure stars shining
Over the roof-tops crowned with snow,
A reign of rest, serene forgetting,
The music of stillness holy and low.
I will make this world of my devising
Out of a dream in my lonely mind,
I shall find the crystal of peace, – above me
Stars I shall find.
by Rainer Maria Rilke (tr. Edward Snow)
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far off,
as if in the heavens distant gardens had withered:
they fall with gestures that say “no.”
And in the night the heavy earth falls
from all the stars into loneliness.
We are falling. This hand is falling.
And look at the others: it is in them all.
And yet there is One who holds this falling
with infinite softness in his hands.
(Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Lamb of God who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant us peace.)
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love - put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
Go, Lovely Rose
Go, lovely Rose- Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.
Then die-that she The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee; How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!