Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou
art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
Faults They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before--
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more-Sara Teasdale
EnoughIt is enough for me by day
To walk the same bright earth with him;
Enough that over us by night
The same great roof of stars is dim.
I have no care to bind the wind
Or set fetter on the sea--
It is enough to feel his love
Blow like music over me-S.T.
The CoinInto my heart's treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor thief purloin-
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned King
Is the safe-kept memory
of a lovely thing--Sara Teasdale
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