Lost Things Poem by Sara Teasdale

Lost Things

Rating: 2.6


OH, I could let the world go by,
Its loud new wonders and its wars,
But how will I give up the sky
When winter dusk is set with stars?
And I could let the cities go,
Their changing customs and their creeds,—
But oh, the summer rains that blow
In silver on the jewel-weeds!

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Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

Missouri / United States
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