I saw her in a Broadway car,
The woman I might grow to be;
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me.
Her hair was dull and drew no light
And yet its color was as mine;
Her eyes were strangely like my eyes
Tho' love had never made them shine.
Her body was a thing grown thin,
Hungry for love that never came;
Her soul was frozen in the dark
Unwarmed forever by love's flame.
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me,
His eyes were magic to defy
The woman I shall never be.
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Poet
Sara Teasdale
1884–1933
SCHOOL / PERIOD
Modern
Subjects
Living,
Disappointment & Failure,
Cities & Urban Life,
Love,
Social Commentaries,
Growing Old,
Relationships,
Men & Women,
Desire,
Heartache & Loss
Poetic Terms
Common Measure,
Rhymed Stanza
Sara Teasdale received public admiration for her well-crafted lyrical poetry which centered on a woman's changing perspectives on beauty, love, and death. Many of Teasdale's poems chart developments in her own life, from her experiences as a sheltered young woman in St. Louis, to those as a successful yet increasingly uneasy writer in New York City, to a depressed and disillusioned person who would commit suicide in 1933. . . .
Continue reading this biography
Poem Categorization
SUBJECT
Living,
Disappointment & Failure,
Cities & Urban Life,
Love,
Social Commentaries,
Growing Old,
Relationships,
Men & Women,
Desire,
Heartache & Loss
SCHOOL / PERIOD
Modern
Poetic Terms
Common Measure,
Rhymed Stanza
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