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1884–1933

Tides

Sara Teasdale

Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing Where the starlike sea gulls soar; The sun was keen and the foam was blowing High on the rocky shore.

But now in the dusk the tide is turning, Lower the sea gulls soar, And the waves that rose in resistless yearning Are broken forevermore.

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Tides · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove