Love Songs

Sarah Teasdale has always been one of my favorite poets. This was the first book I bought containing her work, and I'm happy with it. Her poems are simple yet lovely. If you like poetry but Dickens types are a bit heavy for you, Teasdale is your girl.

Sara Teasdale's poetry is full of passion and emotion, and it speaks to the reader even today, so long after it was first published. It is sad that the very same passion undoubtedly led to her suicide in early 1933. She wrote mainly of love, nature, and death, but of course "Love Songs" which was published in 1917 focused on love, though the other major themes are sometimes also there. It was her third major work (4th overall as "Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems" from 1907 is difficult to find, unfortunately, and was not a major publication). "Love Songs" is an unusual collection, as many of the poems are from "Helen of Troy and other Poems" and "Rivers to the Sea". Section one is mostly republished poems from these earlier works (although some of the poems have slight changes), and section three is half republished works and half new works. Sections two and four of the book are entirely new poems. This doesn't subtract from the overall impact of the work though, and this is certainly a collection worth seeking out for those who love early 20th century poetry. This work was recognized in 1918 by the Columbia University Poetry Society (an award which was to become the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry just two years later) which was sponsored by The Poetry Society of America. Love played a major role in several of the Pulitzer works that year, as it is a significant factor in Ernest Poole's "His Family" which won the first Pulitzer for Novel (later changed to Fiction), and Jesse Lynch Williams' comedy "Why Marry?" (a.k.a. "And So They Got Married") which won the first Pulitzer for Drama. Pulitzer had not made a provision for awarding works of Poetry, so the first couple of awards were given by grants from the Poetry Society of America. Though probably not her best work, "Love Songs" is still well worth seeking out. From the introduction, which is in and of itself a poem, to "A November Night", it is full of passion, whether it be the passion of new love, on-going love, or the loss of love, Sara Teasdale paints incredible pictures with her words. It would not be a proper review without a couple of examples: The Look (first published in "Rivers to the Sea") Strephon kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Strephon's kiss was lost in jest, Robin's lost in play, But the kiss in Colin's eyes Haunts me night and day. To-night (first published in "Love Songs") The moon is a curving flower of gold, The sky is still and blue; The moon was made for the sky to hold, And I for you. The moon is a flower without a stem, The sky is luminous; Eternity was made for them, To-night for us. I highly recommend "Love Songs", though I give this book only four-stars because her later works are even better.

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"But all remembered beauty is no more/Than a vague prelude to the thought of you," Sara Teasdale wrote at the beginning of "Love Songs." Since she wrote mostly love poetry over her lifetime, it's unsurprising that Teasdale devoted an entire book to her best work. Aside from some new poems ("You smile at me/As though I were a little dreamy child/Behind whose eyes the fairies live..."), Teasdale included previous poems from "Rivers to the Sea" and "Helen of Troy and Other Poems." As a result, the poems vary wildly throughout the book. There is, however, one thing that all the poems have in common: Love. Love as romance. Love as idealism. Love as passion. Love lost. Love spurned. Love in decline. Love gained. Love being enjoyed. Love as a memory. Love as a wild thrill, a comforting embrace, an all-consuming joy. It's a sad irony that Teasdale herself never had a really successful love affair; most of what she wrote was idealized romance. In an era when poetry was being radically revamped, Teasdale generally stuck to Victorian poetry structures: simple rhyme schemes, rich phrasing, and a lot of nature descriptions, although in poems like "Summer Night, Riverside," she tried freestyle forms. Surprisingly, her style doesn't seem cloying except in odd spots. There is one flaw: at times, Teasdale's lushly romantic sensibilities get overwhelming. It's a bit like reading the diary of a lovelorn Victorian teenager. However, taken in small doses, "Love Songs" reveals that Teasdale had a rare talent. "In the wild, soft summer darkness/How many and many a night we two together/Sat in the park and watched the Hudson/Wearing her lights like golden spangles/Glinting on black satin." Lovers, romantics and fans of lush poetry will enjoy "Love Songs," which brings together many of the best of Teasdale's (many) love poems. Pretty, charming and well-written.