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1884–1933

FEBRUARY

Sara Teasdale

THEY spoke of him I love With cruel words and gay; My lips kept silent guard On all I could not say.

I heard, and down the street The lonely trees in the square Stood in the winter wind Patient and bare.

I heard... oh voiceless trees Under the wind, I knew The eager terrible spring Hidden in you.

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FEBRUARY · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove