Poems to share

There Will Come Soft Rains

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows calling 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

Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933, USA) was widely admired for her lyric poetry in her lifetime and deserves to be better known now: her subjects were beauty, love and death. In 1918, she won the first Columbia Poetry Prize - a forerunner to the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry - but success was followed by depression: she committed suicide in 1933.