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Poem by Sara Teasdale


Leaves


ONE by one, like leaves from a tree
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and delicate red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
I who was content to be
But a silken-singing tree,
But a rustle of delight
In the wistful heart of night--
I have lost the leaves that knew
Touch of rain and weight of dew.
Blinded by a leafy crown
I looked neither up nor down--
But the little leaves that die
Have left me room to see the sky;
Now for the first time I know
Stars above and earth below.



Sara Teasdale


Sara Teasdale's other poems:
  1. The Carpenter's Son
  2. I Shall Not Care
  3. New Love and Old
  4. After Parting
  5. Child, Child


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Robert Service Leaves ("The leaves are falling one and one")

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