The Hour when we shall meet again. (_Composed during Illness and in Absence._)

That hour, that hour, when we again shall meet,
And all our sorrows vanish into air,
Oh, how my heart doth long for that hour sweet,
When hand in hand, beyond all worldly care.

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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