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Helen of Troy and Other Poems by Sara Teasdale
page 33 of 92 (35%)
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I'd climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.

And if I were the little bird
That twitters on the tree,
All day I'd sing my love for him
Till he should harken me.

But since I am a maiden
I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
That he has turned to sighs.

And since I am a maiden
My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
More red than roses blow.




"I Love You"



When April bends above me
And finds me fast asleep,
Dust need not keep the secret
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