The Garden (Teasdale)

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The Garden
by Sara Teasdale


My heart is a garden tired with autumn,
     Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark,
In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,
     The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;

Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,
     And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain --
The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten --
     After the stillness, will spring come again?


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