After Death

Poem By Sara Teasdale

Now while my lips are living
Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
To speak when I am dead?

Yet if my soul remembered
You would not heed it, dear,
For now you must not listen,
And then you could not hear.

Comments about After Death

' How can they shut me underneath a stone? ' - The terror from the thoughts of death, the ANXIETY which the unknown & death brings, which usually has an offspring of depression. She doesn't want to die as much as she does. It's ironic: her love for life causes her a deep insecurity over the reality that she will die, causing a depression over death which ultimately led her to kill herself. Baffling and yet, so relative. I relate so much to this.
My heart whispers to you Words that I cannot say, Wonder if my soul would Tell you some fateful day. Long after I am dead Buried and ground to dust, Heavens will this message Reach your heart if it must. Beautiful poem like this one, can only be replied with inspiration, by another poet.
Lovely philosophical thoughts and wishes that could not be expressed at the time of one's death. Loved reading the poem. Thanks.
deep and thinkable... enjoyable....
Profound poem, I am sure even after death your fame will grow.....10


Rating Card

3,4 out of 5
70 total ratings

Other poems of TEASDALE

Advice To A Girl

No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;

A Winter Night

My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.

After Parting

Oh I have sown my love so wide
That he will find it everywhere;
It will awake him in the night,
It will enfold him in the air.

After Love

There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.

Alone

I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.