Lost Things

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Title:     Lost Things
Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by 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!

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Lost Things

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