February

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Title:     February
Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by Teasdale]

THEY spoke of him I love
With cruel words and gay;
My lips kept silent guard
On all I could not say.

I heard, and down the street
The lonely trees in the square
Stood in the winter wind
Patient and bare.

I heard . . . oh voiceless trees
Under the wind, I knew
The eager terrible spring
Hidden in you.

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: February

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