Poem by Sara Teasdale

It Is Not a Word

  It is not a word spoken,
   Few words are said;
  Nor even a look of the eyes
   Nor a bend of the head,
  But only a hush of the heart
   That has too much to keep,
  Only memories waking
   That sleep so light a sleep.

1. In a Garden
2. In Spring, Santa Barbara
3. Nahant
4. Winter Stars
5. A Boy

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