Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

When Love Was Born - Poem by Sara Teasdale

When Love was born I think he lay
Right warm on Venus' breast,
And whiles he smiled and whiles would play
And whiles would take his rest.

But always, folded out of sight,
The wings were growing strong
That were to bear him off in flight
Erelong, erelong.


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Read poems about / on: love, smile



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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