Dreams

A poem by Sara Teasdale

I gave my life to another lover,
I gave my love, and all, and all
But over a dream the past will hover,
Out of a dream the past will call.

I tear myself from sleep with a shiver
But on my breast a kiss is hot,
And by my bed the ghostly giver
Is waiting tho' I see him not.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Dreams' by Sara Teasdale

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy