Epitaph on an Infant. ('Ere Sin could blight.')

by Sara Teasdale · 1794 · Loss & Grief
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow's hand could wound,
Thy gentle soul took wing, and soared above,
To heaven's high realm, where peace is ever found,
And there to dwell, in everlasting love.

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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