Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale
page 33 of 89 (37%)
page 33 of 89 (37%)
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THE spring is fresh and fearless And every leaf is new, The world is brimmed with moonlight, The lilac brimmed with dew. Here in the moving shadows I catch my breath and sing-- My heart is fresh and fearless And over-brimmed with spring. DUSK IN JUNE EVENING, and all the birds In a chorus of shimmering sound Are easing their hearts of joy For miles around. The air is blue and sweet, The few first stars are white,-- Oh let me like the birds Sing before night. LOVE-FREE |
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