Sara Teasdale Poetry

Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me-
That your love would never lessen and never go?
You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted,
You were too young to know.

Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it
Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year-
Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking,
I know your secret, my dear, my dear.

Poet: Sara Teasdale