A Cry

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Title:     A Cry
Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by Teasdale]

OH, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
Only a voice.

Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
And lips whereon his lips can lie,
But I must be till I am dead
Only a cry.

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Cry

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