Dust in  General   

When I went to look at what had long been hidden,
A jewel laid long ago in a secret place,
I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire—
But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face.

I almost gave my life long ago for a thing
That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes—
It is strange how often a heart must be broken
Before the years can make it wise.

By Sara Teasdale

Tell Your Friends About It | Print This Poem

Comments

You should be logged in to be able to leave comments

Other poems by Sara Teasdale:

• A Cry
• A November Night
• After Love
• After Parting
• Alone
• At Midnight
• Barter
• Because
• Blue Squills
• Buried Love
• But Not To Me
• Come
• Debt
• Did You Never Know?
• Doubt
• Dust
• Enough
• Fault
• Gray Eyes
• Guenevere
• Houses Of Dreams
• I Am Not Yours
• I Have Loved Hours At Sea
• I Remembered
• I Thought Of You
• If Death Is Kind
• In The End
• It Is Not A Word
• It Will Not Change
• Jewels
• Let It Be Forgotten
• Like Barley Bending
• Longing
• Love And Death
• My Heart Is Heavy
• Oh You Are Coming
• On A March Day
• Sleepless
• Spring Rain
• The Fountain
• The Ghost
• The Mystery
• The Years
• Tides
• Tonight
• Understanding
• Water Lilies
• What Do I Care?