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1884–1933

Peace

Sara Teasdale

Peace flows into me As the tide to the pool by the shore; It is mine forevermore, It will not ebb like the sea.

I am the pool of blue That worships the vivid sky; My hopes were heaven-high, They are all fulfilled in you.

I am the pool of gold When sunset burns and dies — You are my deepening skies; Give me your stars to hold.

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Peace · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove