Four Songs on Poems by Sara Teasdale

My soul lives in my body*s house,
And you have both the house and her—
But sometimes she is less your own
Than a wild, gay adventurer;
A restless and an eager wraith,
How can I tell what she will do—
Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,
But what if my soul broke faith with you?

Love me with your whole heart
      Or give no love to me,

Half-love is a poor thing,
      Neither bond nor free.

You must love me gladly
      Soul and body too,

Or else find a new love,
      And good-by to you.

Moon, worn thin to the width of a quill,
In the dawn clouds flying,
How good to go, light into light , and still
Giving light, dying.

Let it be you who lean above me 
On my last day,
Let it be you who shut my eyelids 
Forever and aye.
Say a "Goodnight" as you have said it
All of these years,
With the old look, with the old whisper 
And without tears.
You will know then all that in silence 
You always knew,
Though I have loved, I loved no other
As I loved you.