Quiet sits and dreams:

"Her thoughts are like the lotus
Abloom by sacred streams
Beneath the temple arches
Where Quiet sits and dreams." (A Fantasy) by Sara Teasdale

Oh who can tell the range of joy
Or set the bounds of beauty?" (A Winter Bluejay)


Now for my Favorite:

A Prayer

When I am dying, let me know
That I loved the blowing snow
Although it stung like whips;
That I loved all lovely things
And I tried to take their stings
With gay unembittered lips;
That I loved with all my strength,
To my soul's full depth and length,
Careless if my heart must break,
That I sang as children sing
Fitting tunes to everything,
Loving life for its own sake.

She is an amazing poet: http://www.poemhunter.com/sara-teasdale/poems/