In Warsaw in Poland Half the world away, The one I love best of all Thought of me to-day; I know, for I went Winged as a bird, In the wide flowing wind His own voice I heard; His arms were round me In a ferny place, I looked in the pool And there was his face But now it is night And the cold stars say: "Warsaw in Poland Is half the world away."
Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; Dead Love