FROM THE POETRY SHELF1920
The New Moon
by Sara Teasdale
Day, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole—
Yet I have wrested a gift from you,
Day that dies in dusky blue:
For suddenly over the factories
I saw a moon in the cloudy seas—
A wisp of beauty all alone
In a world as hard and gray as stone—
Oh who could be bitter and want to die
When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?
Collection and author context
The linked Project Gutenberg text places this poem in Flame and Shadow (1920). Teasdale’s biography and the linked Academy of American Poets and Poetry Foundation profiles provide further context for her lyric poetry and published collections.
Source text: Flame and Shadow (1920) · Project Gutenberg. Further reading: all poems by Sara Teasdale · Academy of American Poets: Sara Teasdale · Poetry Foundation: Sara Teasdale.