I have loved hours at sea, gray cities, The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill, Voices of people kindly and wise, And the great look of love, long hidden, Found at last in meeting eyes. I have loved much and been loved deeply -- Oh when my spirit's fire burns low, Leave me the darkness and the stillness, I shall be tired and glad to go. Sara Teasdale