Pain

Sara Teasdale

Waves are the sea’s white daughters,
 And raindrops the children of rain,
But why for my shimmering body
 Have I a mother like Pain?

Night is the mother of stars,
 And wind the mother of foam —
The world is brimming with beauty,
 But I must stay at home.

Next 10 Poems

• Sara Teasdale : Paris In Spring
• Sara Teasdale : Peace
• Sara Teasdale : Pierrot
• Sara Teasdale : Pierrot's Song
• Sara Teasdale : Pity
• Sara Teasdale : Places
• Sara Teasdale : Primavera Mia
• Sara Teasdale : Red Maples
• Sara Teasdale : Redbirds
• Sara Teasdale : Refuge

Previous 10 Poems

• Sara Teasdale : Over The Roofs
• Sara Teasdale : Other Men
• Sara Teasdale : Open Windows
• Sara Teasdale : Only In Sleep
• Sara Teasdale : On The Tower
• Sara Teasdale : On The Dunes
• Sara Teasdale : On The Death Of Swinburne
• Sara Teasdale : On A March Day
• Sara Teasdale : Old Tunes
• Sara Teasdale : Oh You Are Coming