Poem by Sara Teasdale

Compensation

I should be glad of loneliness
 And hours that go on broken wings,
A thirsty body, a tired heart
 And the unchanging ache of things,
If I could make a single song
 As lovely and as full of light,
As hushed and brief as a falling star
 On a winter night.

1. In a Cuban Garden
2. Bells
3. Alone
4. Morning Song
5. Understanding

Celia Thaxter Compensation ("In that new world toward which our feet are set")

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