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Read more poems by Sara Teasdale: Sara Teasdale Poems at Poetry X.

My heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree, 
But I can never give you one --
My songs do not belong to me.

Yet in the evening, in the dusk
When moths go to and fro,
In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen,
Take it, no one will know.


Submitted by Venus

Added: 17 Feb 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 12:59 PM | Viewed: 5763 times

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