“The Old Maid” – Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933)

I saw her in a Broadway car,
      The woman I might grow to be;
I felt my lover look at her
      And then turn suddenly to me.
Her hair was dull and drew no light
      And yet its color was as mine;
Her eyes were strangely like my eyes
      Tho’ love had never made them shine.
Her body was a thing grown thin,
      Hungry for love that never came;
Her soul was frozen in the dark
      Unwarmed forever by love’s flame.
I felt my lover look at her
      And then turn suddenly to me, —
His eyes were magic to defy
      The woman I shall never be.
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One response to ““The Old Maid” – Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933)

  1. Pingback: I Thought Of You By Sara Teasdale | Renard Moreau Presents

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