Sunday WW1 Remembered..

This is such an expressive poem which perfectly symbolises the hope of Spring against the sadness of war



Spring in War Time

by

Sara Teasdale

I feel the spring far off, far off,

The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—

Oh, how can spring take heart to come

To a world in grief,

Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long,

Later the evening star grows bright—

How can the daylight linger on

For men to fight,

Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground,

Soon it will rise and blow in waves—

How can it have the heart to sway

Over the graves,

New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked

The apple-blooms will shed their breath—

But what of all the lovers now

Parted by Death,

Grey Death?

Sara Teasdale 1884 - 1933

Bluebell Wood in early Spring

© Jaffareadstoo

Sunday WW1 Remembered..

When I first started this WW1 commemoration back in 2014 I mainly featured poetry.

This month I will share my favourite poems

Sara Teasdale

1884 - 1933

There Will Come Soft Rains

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools 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.

Sara Teasdale was an American lyrical poet. She was born Sara Trevor Teasdale in St. Louis, Missouri, and after her marriage in 1914 she went by the name Sara Teasdale Filsinger.

Sunday WW1 Remembered...

There are signs everywhere that spring is on its way, a sharpening of the light, a promise of blossom and the sweet,soft chorus of birdsong.

With that in mind I was drawn to this reflective poem by one of my favourite female poets.

Spring in War Time

by

Sara Teasdale

I feel the spring far off, far off,

The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—

Oh, how can spring take heart to come

To a world in grief,

Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long,

Later the evening star grows bright—

How can the daylight linger on

For men to fight,

Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground,

Soon it will rise and blow in waves—

How can it have the heart to sway

Over the graves,

New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked

The apple-blooms will shed their breath—

But what of all the lovers now

Parted by Death,

Grey Death?

Sara Teasdale 1884 - 1933

Sara Teasdale was born in St. Louis Missouri in 1884 and had her first set of poetry published in 1907. 

In 1918, she won a Pulitzer prize for her 1917 poetry collection, Love Songs. 

She went on to publish three more poetry collections - Flame and Shadow (1920), Dark of the Moon (1926), and Stars Tonight (1930).

Following a bout of illness, Sara Teasdale committed suicide in 1933. She is buried in Bellefontaine Cemetery in St. Louis.

~***~ 

Sunday WW1 Poem ...

The theme for this month's WW1 poetry

 is

HOME


and 


I think that this poem is appropriate for the first weekend in Spring.

Spring in Wartime 

by 

Sara Teasdale

1884 -1933

I feel the spring far off, far off,

The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—

Oh, how can spring take heart to come

To a world in grief,

Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long,

Later the evening star grows bright—

How can the daylight linger on

For men to fight,

Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground,

Soon it will rise and blow in waves—

How can it have the heart to sway

Over the graves,

New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked

The apple-blooms will shed their breath—

But what of all the lovers now

Parted by Death,

Grey Death?

Sara Teasdale was an American poet whose work was influenced

by the work of Christina Rossetti.
She was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and after her marriage in 1914 she went by the name 
Sara Teasdale Filsinger.

~***~