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A poem by Sara Teasdale

Faces

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

People that I meet and pass
In the city's broken roar,
Faces that I lose so soon
And have never found before,

Do you know how much you tell
In the meeting of our eyes,
How ashamed I am, and sad
To have pierced your poor disguise?

Secrets rushing without sound
Crying from your hiding places--
Let me go, I cannot bear
The sorrow of the passing faces.

--People in the restless street,
Can it be, oh can it be
In the meeting of our eyes
That you know as much of me?




[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Faces

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