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Poem by Sara Teasdale I Shall Not Care When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Though you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care. I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough, And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now. Sara Teasdale Sara Teasdale's other poems: 1225 Views |
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