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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;

Since there is no escape even for

Who love life with a love too sharp to bear:

The scent of orchards in the rain, the

And hours alone too still and sure for prayer—Since darkness waits for me, then all the

Let me go down as waves sweep to the

In pride; and let me sing with my last breath;

In these few hours of light I lift my head;

Life is my lover—I shall leave the

If there is any way to baffle death.

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
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