I have remembered beauty in the night,
 Against black silences I waked to see
 A shower of sunlight over Italy
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
I have remembered music in the dark,
 The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
 And running water singing on the rocks
When once in English woods I heard a lark.

But all remembered beauty is no more
 Than a vague prelude to the thought of you --
 You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
    Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
    And when I think of you, I am at rest.


Submitted by Venus

Added: on December 17th, 2005 at 8:32 PM | Viewed: 1399 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Sara Teasdale
Poem: To E.

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