Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale
page 81 of 89 (91%)
page 81 of 89 (91%)
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The day that I come home;
I shall hear the whole deep ocean Beating under the foam. V SAPPHO SAPPHO I MIDNIGHT, and in the darkness not a sound, So, with hushed breathing, sleeps the autumn night; Only the white immortal stars shall know, Here in the house with the low-lintelled door, How, for the last time, I have lit the lamp. I think you are not wholly careless now, Walls that have sheltered me so many an hour, Bed that has brought me ecstasy and sleep, Floors that have borne me when a gale of joy Lifted my soul and made me half a god. Farewell! Across the threshold many feet Shall pass, but never Sappho's feet again. |
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