A Summer Dream

One eve I walked in summer's golden light,
While all the weary world was hushed and still,
And lo! before me bloomed a wondrous sight,
A garden fair upon a distant hill.
It was a dream, a sweet and passing thought,
And I, the dreamer, woke to find it gone,
Nor left me aught, save memory dearly bought,
Of beauties past, and joys forever flown.

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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