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Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

Galahad in the Castle of the Maidens

(To the maiden with the hidden face in Abbey’s painting)
 
The other maidens raised their eyes to him
Who stumbled in before them when the fight
Had left him victor, with a victor’s right.
I think his eyes with quick hot tears grew dim;
He scarcely saw her swaying white and slim,
And trembling slightly, dreaming of his might,
Nor knew he touched her hand, as strangely light
As a wan wraith’s beside a river’s rim.
The other maidens raised their eyes to see
And only she has hid her face away,
And yet I ween she loved him more than they,
And very fairly fashioned was her face.
Yet for Love’s shame and sweet humility,
She dared not meet him with their queenlike grace.

#AmericanWriters

Other works by Sara Teasdale...
Other Men

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So soon my body will have gone Beyond the sound and sight of men, And tho’ it wakes and suffers now, Its sleep will be unbroken then; But oh, my frail immortal soul
The Lights of New York

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The Prayer

My answered prayer came up to me, And in the silence thus spake he: “O you who prayed for me to come, Your greeting is but cold and dumb… My heart made answer: “You are fa…
Less Than the Cloud to the Wind

Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm, Am I to thee. More than the star to the night,
The Voice

ATOMS as old as stars, Mutation on mutation, Millions and millions of cells Dividing yet still the same, From air and changing earth,
The Tree

OH to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests
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The Broken Field

My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
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At Sea

IN the pull of the wind I stand,… On the deck of a ship, rising, fal… Wild night around me, wild water u… Whipped by the storm, screaming an… Earth is hostile and the sea hosti…
Broadway

This is the quiet hour; the theate… Have gathered in their crowds, and… The million lights blaze on for fe… Robbing the sky of stars that shou… A woman waits with bag and shabby…
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When we come home at night and clo… Standing together in the shadowy r… Safe in our own love and the gentl… Glad of familiar wall and chair an… Glad to leave far below the clangi…
The Falling Star

I saw a star slide down the sky, Blinding the north as it went by, Too burning and too quick to hold, Too lovely to be bought or sold, Good only to make wishes on
Eight O’€™clock

SUPPER comes at five o’clock, At six, the evening star, My lover comes at eight o’clock’€” But eight o’clock is far. How could I bear my pain all day
The Treasure

WHEN they see my songs They will sigh and say, ‘Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day.’ They will never know



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