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Poem by Sara Teasdale November The world is tired, the year is old, The fading leaves are glad to die, The wind goes shivering with cold Where the brown reeds are dry. Our love is dying like the grass, And we who kissed grow coldly kind, Half glad to see our old love pass Like leaves along the wind. Sara Teasdale Poem Theme: Autumn Sara Teasdale's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1384 Views |
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