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Sara Teasdale

(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933 / Missouri)

Tides


Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
High on the rocky shore.

But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
Lower the sea gulls soar,
And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
Are broken forevermore.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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