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A poem by Sara Teasdale |
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In A Garden |
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Title: In A Garden Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by Teasdale] The world is resting without sound or motion, Beyond the calm Connecticut the hills lie Into the garden peace comes back with twilight, For at high-noon I heard from this same garden And the hysterical sharp fife that shattered Across the calm Connecticut the hills change [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |