Explore "To Erinna" by Sara Teasdale on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Was Time not harsh to you, or was he kind, / O pale Erinna of the perfect lyre, / That he has left no word of singing fire / Whereby you waked the dreaming Lesbian wind, / And kindled night along the lyric shore? / O girl whose lips Erato stooped to kiss, / Do you go sorrowing because of this / In fields where poets sing forevermore? / Or are you glad and is it best to be / A silent music men have never heard, / A dream in all our souls that we may say: / "Her voice had all the rapture of the sea, / And all the clear cool quiver of a bird / Deep in a forest at the break of day"?