Come

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

COME, when the pale moon like a petal
Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,
Come with arms outstretched to take me,
Come with lips pursed up to cling.

Come, for life is a frail moth flying
Caught in the web of the years that pass,
And soon we two, so warm and eager
Will be as the gray stones in the grass.

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Come

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