When they see my songs
They will sigh and say,
"Poor soul, wistful soul,
Lonely night and day."
They will never know
All your love for me
Surer than the spring,
Stronger than the sea;
Hidden out of sight
Like a miser's gold
In forsaken fields
Where the wind is cold.
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Comments about this poem (The Treasure by Sara Teasdale )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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