Helen of Troy and Other Poems by Sara Teasdale
page 57 of 92 (61%)
page 57 of 92 (61%)
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I hid three words within my heart, That longed to fly to him, At dawn they woke me with a start, They sang till day was dim. And now at last I let them fly, As little birds should do, And he will know the first is "I", The others "Love" and "You". X Across the twilight's violet His curtained window glimmers gold; Oh happy light that round my love Can fold. Oh happy book within his hand, Oh happy page he glorifies, Oh happy little word beneath His eyes. But oh, thrice happy, happy I Who love him more than songs can tell, For in the heaven of his heart I dwell. |
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