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1884–1933

The Unchanging

Sara Teasdale

Sun-swept beaches with a light wind blowing From the immense blue circle of the sea, And the soft thunder where long waves whiten — These were the same for Sappho as for me.

Two thousand years — much has gone by forever, Change takes the gods and ships and speech of men — But here on the beaches that time passes over The heart aches now as then.

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The Unchanging · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove