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Poem by Sara Teasdale Gray Fog A fog drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea— One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the window With the whole world gone blind, Everything, even my longing, drowses, Even the thoughts in my mind. I put my head on my hands before me, There is nothing left to be done or said, There is nothing to hope for, I am tired, And heavy as the dead. Sara Teasdale Sara Teasdale's other poems: 1583 Views |
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