<b>Only In Sleep</b> Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Anni… - Sara Teasdale

The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild — Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I too a child?

I lift my heart as spring lifts up A yellow daisy to the rain; My heart will be a lovely cup Altho' it holds but pain. For I shall learn from flower and leaf That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.

Unless I learn to ask no help
From any other soul but mine,
To seek no strength in waving reeds
Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
Unless I learn to look at Grief
Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
And take from Pleasure fearlessly
Whatever gifts will make me wise — Unless I learn these things on earth,
Why was I ever given birth?

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