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Sara Teasdale - To E.
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I have remembered beauty in the night, 
Against black silences I waked to see 
A shower of sunlight over Italy 
And green Ravello dreaming on her height; 
I have remembered music in the dark, 
The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach`s, 
And running water singing on the rocks 
When once in English woods I heard a lark.

But all remembered beauty is no more 
Than a vague prelude to the thought of you— 
You are the rarest soul I ever knew, 
     Lover of beauty, knightliest and best, 
My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore, 
     And when I think of you I am at rest.
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