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Poem by Sara Teasdale Come COME, when the pale moon like a petal Floats in the pearly dusk of spring, Come with outstretched arms to take me, Come with lips pursed up to cling. Come, for life is a frail moth flying Caught in the web of the years that pass, And soon we two,so warm and eager, Will be as the gray stones in the grass. Sara Teasdale Sara Teasdale's other poems: 1269 Views |
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