I. Off Gilbatrar Beyond the sleepy hills of Spain, The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst. Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair. II. Off Algeirs Oh give me neither love nor tears, Nor dreams that sear the night with fire, Go lightly on your pilgrimage Unburdened by desire. Forget me for a month, a year, But, oh, beloved, think of me When unexpected beauty burns Like sudden sunlight on the sea. III. Naples Nisida and Prosida are laughing in the light, Capri is a dewy flower lifting into sight, Posilipo kneels and looks in the burnished sea, Naples crowds her million roofs close as close can be; Round about the mountain's crest a flag of smoke is hung- Oh when God made Italy he was gay and young! IV. Capri When beauty grows too great to bear How shall I ease me of its ache, For beauty more than bitterness Makes the heart break. Now while I watch the dreaming sea With isles like flowers against her breast, Only one voice in all the world Could give me rest. V. Night Song at Amalfi I asked the heaven of stars What I should give my love It answered me with silence, Silence above. I asked the darkened sea Down where the fishers go It answered me with silence, Silence below. Oh, I could give him weeping, Or I could give him song But how can I give silence My whole life long? VI. Ruins of Paestum On lowlands where the temples lie The marsh-grass mingles with the flowers, Only the little songs of birds Link the unbroken hours. So in the end, above my heart Once like the city wild and gay, The slow white stars will pass by night, The swift brown birds by day. VII. Rome Oh for the rising moon Over the roofs of Rome, And swallows in the dusk Circling a darkened dome! Oh for the measured dawns That pass with folded wings How can I let them go With unremembered things? VIII. Florence The bells ring over the Arno, Midnight, the long, long chime; Here in the quivering darkness I am afraid of time. Oh, gray bells cease your tolling, Time takes too much from me, And yet to rock and river He gives eternity. IX. Villa Serbelloni, Bellaggio The fountain shivers lightly in the rain, The laurels drip, the fading roses fall, The marble satyr plays a mournful strain That leaves the rainy fragrance musical. Oh dripping laurel, Phoebus sacred tree, Would that swift Daphne's lot might come to me, Then would I still my soul and for an hour Change to a laurel in the glancing shower. X. Stresa The moon grows out of the hills A yellow flower, The lake is a dreamy bride Who waits her hour. Beauty has filled my heart, It can hold no more, It is full, as the lake is full, From shore to shore. XI. Hamburg The day that I come home, What will you find to say, Words as light as foam With laughter light as spray? Yet say what words you will The day that I come home; I shall hear the whole deep ocean Beating under the foam.
Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; Villa Serbelloni, Bellaggio