1 min read
Слушать(AI)Doubt
My soul lives in my body's house,
And you have both the house and her —But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer;
A restless and an eager wraith,
How can I tell what she will do —Oh,
I am sure of my body's faith,
But what if my soul broke faith with you?
Sara Teasdale
Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933) was an American lyric poet. She was born Sarah Trevor Teasdale in St. Louis, Missouri, and use
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Tonight
The moon is a curving flower of gold, The sky is still and blue; The moon was made for the sky to hold, And I for you;
Let It Be Forgotten
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Though you shall lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough;
Since There Is No Escape
CE there is no escape, since at the My body will be utterly destroyed, This hand I love as I have loved a friend, This body I tended, wept with and enjoyed;
