I sang my songs for the rest,
For you I am still;
The tree of my song is bare
On its shining hill.
For you came like a lordly wind,
And the leaves were whirled
Far as forgotten things
Past the rim of the world.
The tree of my song stands bare
Against the blue-
I gave my songs to the rest,
Myself to you.
The Tree Of Song
Sara Teasdale
(1)
Poem topics: wind, world, blue, shining, song, tree, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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