Sara Teasdale

August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States

Compensation

I SHOULD be glad of loneliness
And hours that go on broken wings,
A thirsty body, a tired heart
And the unchanging ache of things,
If I could make a single song
As lovely and as full of light,
As hushed and brief as a falling star
On a winter night.
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