Helen of Troy and Other Poems by Sara Teasdale
page 33 of 92 (35%)
page 33 of 92 (35%)
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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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