Make the Most

I make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.
― Sara Teasdale

My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.
― Sara Teasdale

For I shall learn from flower and leaf,
That color every drop they hold,
To change the lifeless wine of grief
To living gold.
― Sara Teasdale


Pain

Waves are the sea's white daughters,
And raindrops the children of rain,
But why for my shimmering body
Have I a mother like Pain?

Night is the mother of stars,
And wind the mother of foam—
The world is brimming with beauty,
But I must stay at home.
― Sara Teasdale, Flame and Shadow