The Wind

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Title:     The Wind
Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by Teasdale]

A wind is blowing over my soul,
I hear it cry the whole night thro'--
Is there no peace for me on earth
Except with you?

Alas, the wind has made me wise,
Over my naked soul it blew,--
There is no peace for me on earth
Even with you.

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Wind

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