1 min read
Слушать(AI)Hidden Love
I hid the love within my heart,
And lit the laughter in my eyes,
That when we meet he may not know My love that never dies.
But sometimes when he dreams at night Of fragrant forests green and dim,
It may be that my love crept out And brought the dream to him.
And sometimes when his heart is sick And suddenly grows well again,
It may be that my love was there To free his life of pain.
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
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,
There Will Come Soft Rains
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Jewels
If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go —Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow Or back to oak trees in the spring When you unloosed my hair and The head that lay against your kne...
Roses And Rue
Bring me the roses white and red, And take the laurel leaves away; Yea, wreathe the roses round my That wearies 'neath the crown of bay