Remember me as I was then; Turn from me now, but always see The laughing shadowy girl who stood At midnight by the flowering tree, With eyes that love had made as bright As the trembling stars of the summer night. Turn from me now, but always hear The muted laughter in the dew Of that one year of youth we had, The only youth we ever knew, Turn from me now, or you will see What other years have done to me.
Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; Child, Child