Lost Things

by Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

OH, I could let the world go by,
Its loud new wonders and its wars,
But how will I give up the sky
When winter dusk is set with stars?
And I could let the cities go,
Their changing customs and their creeds,-
But oh, the summer rains that blow
In silver on the jewel-weeds!





Last updated January 14, 2019