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Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale
page 36 of 89 (40%)
I would have died to say the truth to you.
After a year I came again to the place--
The hunted hurrying people were still the same....




AFTER LOVE

THERE is no magic when we meet,
We speak as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.

You were the wind and I the sea--
There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
Beside the shore.

But tho' the pool is safe from storm
And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
For all its peace.




DOORYARD ROSES

I HAVE come the selfsame path
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