Sunday, February 15, 2009



    I knew you thought of me all night,
    I knew, though you were far away;
    I felt your love blow over me
    As if a dark wind-riven sea
    Drenched me with quivering spray.

    There are so many ways to love
    And each way has its own delight --
    Then be content to come to me
    Only as spray the beating sea
    Drives inland through the night.

    Sara Teasdale

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