Sara Teasdale — A Fantasy

Her voice is like clear water    That drips upon a stone In forests far and silent    Where Quiet plays alone. Her thoughts are like the lotus    Abloom by sacred streams Beneath the temple arches    Where Quiet sits and dreams. Her kisses are the roses   That glow while dusk is deep In Persian garden closes    Where Quiet falls asleep.


Other Sara Teasdale songs:
all Sara Teasdale songs all songs from 2013