A Reflection

The hurried feet of passing years,
Have trod the path of life so fast,
And left behind but hopes and fears,
And memories that cannot last.
The bloom of youth, the vigor strong,
Have faded with the passing day;
And naught remains, where life was long,
But shadows of a distant way.

About Sara Teasdale

American lyric poet, known for her poems on love, nature, and the feminine experience. Her work often displays a delicate and musical quality.

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