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“She can't be unhappy,' you said, 'The smiles are like stars in her eyes, And her laugh is thistledown Around her low replies.' 'Is she unhappy?' you said– But who has ever known Another's heartbreak– All he can know is how own; And she seems hushed to me, As hushed as though Her heart were a hunter's fire Smothered in snow.” — Sara Teasdale
She can't be unhappy,' you said,
'The smiles are like stars in her eyes,
And her laugh is thistledown
Around her low replies.'
'Is she unhappy?' you said–
But who has ever known
Another's heartbreak–
All he can know is how own;
And she seems hushed to me,
As hushed as though
Her heart were a hunter's fire
Smothered in snow.