They spoke of him I love
With cruel words and gay;
My lips kept silent guard
On all I could not say.
I heard, and down the street
The lonely trees in the square
Stood in the winter wind
Patient and bare.
I heard... oh voiceless trees
Under the wind, I knew
The eager terrible spring
Hidden in you.
February
Sara Teasdale
Suggested Poems
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.