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Poem by Sara Teasdale


The New Moon


DAY, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole—
Yet I have wrested a gift from you,
Day that dies in dusky blue:
For suddenly over the factories
I saw a moon in the cloudy seas—
A wisp of beauty all alone
In a world as hard and gray as stone—
Oh who could be bitter and want to die
When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?



Sara Teasdale


Sara Teasdale's other poems:
  1. The Flight
  2. Songs out of Sorrow
  3. I Would Live in Your Love
  4. April Song
  5. The Giver


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • William Bryant The New Moon ("When, as the garish day is done")
  • William Simms The New Moon ("BEND thy bow, Dian! shoot thy silver shaft")

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