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1884–1933

Spray

Sara Teasdale

I knew you thought of me all night, I knew, though you were far away; I felt your love blow over me As if a dark wind-riven sea

Drenched me with quivering spray. There are so many ways to love And each way has its own delight — Then be content to come to me

Only as spray the beating sea Drives inland through the night.

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Spray · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove