Sara Teasdale  Poétesse Américaine, 1925 

Photo Copyright© E.O. Hoppe Estate Collection / Curatorial Inc.

Before you kissed me only winds of heaven 

Had kissed me, and the tenderness of rain— 

Now you have come, how can I care for kisses 

Like theirs again? 

 I sought the sea, she sent her winds to meet me, 

They surged about me singing of the south— 

I turned my head away to keep still holy 

Your kiss upon my mouth. 

 And swift sweet rains of shining April weather 

Found not my lips where living kisses are; 

I bowed my head lest they put out my glory 

As rain puts out a star. 

 I am my love's and he is mine forever, 

Sealed with a seal and safe forevermore— 

Think you that I could let a beggar enter 

Where a king stood before?

Sara Teasdale