Make songs for Death as you would sing to Love — But you will not assuage him. He alone Of all the gods will take no gifts from men. - Sara Teasdale

I hope that when he smiles at me He does not guess my joy and pain, For if he did, he is too kind To ever look my way again.

My dreams are over, I have ceased to cry Against the fate that made men love my mouth And left their spirits all too deaf to hear The little songs that echoed through my soul. I have no anger now. The dreams are done; Yet since the Greeks and Trojans would not see Aught but my body's fairness, till the end, In all the islands set in all the seas, And all the lands that lie beneath the sun, Till light turn darkness, and till time shall sleep, Men's lives shall waste with longing after me, For I shall be the sum of their desire, The whole of beauty, never seen again.

In my heart's most secret place,
I pity them as angels do.