Poem Hunter
A Prayer
(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

A Prayer

Poem By Sara Teasdale

When I am dying, let me know
That I loved the blowing snow
Although it stung like whips;
That I loved all lovely things
And I tried to take their stings
With gay unembittered lips;
That I loved with all my strength,
To my soul's full depth and length,
Careless if my heart must break,
That I sang as children sing
Fitting tunes to everything,
Loving life for its own sake.

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Comments (2)

Yes love has such an absurd formula.A poem nicely penned.
awww such a igniting sweet prayer full of love