Young Love by Sara Teasdale read by Paula Araujo

II cannot heed the words they say,The lights grow far away and dim,Amid the laughing men and maidsMy eyes unbidden seek for him.I hope that when he smiles at meHe does not guess my joy and pain,For if he did, he is too kindTo ever look my way again.III have a secret in my heartNo ears have ever heard,And still it sings there day by dayMost like a caged bird.And when it beats against the bars,I do not set it free,For I am happier to knowIt only sings for me.IIII wrote his name along the beach,I love the letters so.Far up it seemed and out of reach,For still the tide was low.But oh, the sea came creeping up,And washed the name away,And on the sand where it had beenA bit of sea-grass lay.A bit of sea-grass on the sand,Dropped from a mermaid's hair --Ah, had she come to kiss his nameAnd leave a token there?IVWhat am I that he should love me,He who stands so far above me,What am I?I am like a cowslip turningToward the sky,Where a planet's golden burningBreaks the cowslip's heart with yearning,What am I that he should love me,What am I?VO dreams that flock about my sleep,I pray you bring my love to me,And let me think I hear his voiceAgain ring free.And if you care to please me well,And live to-morrow in my mind,Let him who was so cold before,To-night seem kind.VII plucked a daisy in the fields,And there beneath the sunI let its silver petals fallOne after one.I said, "He loves me, loves me not,"And oh, my heart beat fast,The flower was kind, it let me say"He loves me," last.I kissed the little leafless stem,But oh, my poor heart knewThe words the flower had said to me,They were not true.VIII sent my love a letter,And if he loves me not,He shall not find my love for himIn any line or dot.But if he loves me truly,He'll find it hidden deep,As dawn gleams red thro' chilly cloudsTo eyes awaked from sleep.VIIIThe world is cold and gray and wet,And I am heavy-hearted, yetWhen I am home and look to seeThe place my letters wait for me,If I should find one letter there,I think I should not greatly careIf it were rainy or were fair,For all the world would suddenlySeem like a festival to me.IXI 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".XAcross the twilight's violetHis curtained window glimmers gold;Oh happy light that round my loveCan fold.Oh happy book within his hand,Oh happy page he glorifies,Oh happy little word beneathHis eyes.But oh, thrice happy, happy IWho love him more than songs can tell,For in the heaven of his heartI dwell.Find us online at thatsnotcanon.com/epigraphySubscribe to us on ITUNES, STITCHER, SPOTIFY, RADIOPUBLIC or your podcatcher of... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.