Sara Teasdale

Here you will find the Poem Pity of poet Sara Teasdale


They never saw my lover's face, 
They only know our love was brief, 
Wearing awhile a windy grace 
And passing like an autumn leaf.

They wonder why I do not weep, 
They think it strange that I can sing, 
They say, "Her love was scarcely deep 
Since it has left so slight a sting."

They never saw my love, nor knew 
That in my heart's most secret place 
I pity them as angels do 
Men who have never seen God's face.