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Lost Things: Poem by Sara Teasdale

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OH, I could let the world go by,
Its loud new wonders and its wars,
But how will I give up the sky
When winter dusk is set with stars?
And I could let the cities go,
Their changing customs and their creeds,—
But oh, the summer rains that blow
In silver on the jewel-weeds!

Analysis of this poem
  • loss

More verses by Sara Teasdale

  • Two Minds
  • In A Cuban Garden
  • Roses And Rue
  • The Meeting
  • The Garden

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Poems about...
  • love
  • death
  • life
  • nature
  • family
  • spring
  • winter
  • summer
  • autumn
  • depression
  • beautiful
  • dream
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