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1884–1933

Because

Sara Teasdale

Oh, because you never tried To bow my will or break my pride, And nothing of the cave-man made You want to keep me half afraid,

Nor ever with a conquering air You thought to draw me unaware — Take me, for I love you more Than I ever loved before.

And since the body's maidenhood Alone were neither rare nor good Unless with it I gave to you A spirit still untrammeled, too,

Take my dreams and take my mind That were masterless as wind; And “Master!” I shall say to you Since you never asked me to.

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Because · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove