Come

By Sara Teasdale

1884-1933


Come, when the pale moon like a petal
         Floats in the pearly dusk of Spring,
Come with arms outstretched to take me,
         Come with lips that long to cling.

Come, for life is a frail moth flying,
         Caught in the web of the years that pass,
And soon we two, so warm and eager,
         Will be as the gray stones in the grass.

I heard a cry in the night,
         A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
         My name, my name!

It was your voice I heard,
         You waked and loved me so --
I send you back this word,
         I know, I know!

I am the still rain falling,
         Too tired for singing mirth --
Oh, be the green fields calling,
         Oh, be for me the earth!

I am the brown bird pining
         To leave the nest and fly --
Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
         Oh, be for me the sky!

I asked the heaven of stars
         What I should give my love --
It answered me with silence,
         Silence above.

I asked the darkened sea
         Down where the fishers go --
It answered me with silence,
         Silence below.

Oh, I could give him weeping,
         Or I could give him song --
But how can I give silence
         My whole life long?

Let it be forgotten as a flower is forgotten,
         Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
         Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If any one asks, say it was forgotten
         Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
         In a long forgotten snow.

DayPoems Poem No. 1351
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1351.html">Come by Sara Teasdale</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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