Not One Would Mind

Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933)

Look for a lovely thing and you will find it, it is not far, it never will be far.

Sara Teasdale

The Look

By Sara Teasdale
 
 
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
 
Strephon’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.
 
 

There Will Come Soft Rains

by Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; 

And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.