The Net

by


I made you many and many a song,
Yet never one told all you are,
It was as though a net of words
Were flung to catch a star;

It was as though I curved my hand
And dipped sea-water eagerly,
Only to find it lost the blue
Dark splendor of the sea.

1

facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest


Add The Net to your library.

Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; The New Moon

© 2022 AmericanLiterature.com