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After Death

Sara Teasdale

Now while my lips are living
   Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
   To speak when I am dead?

Yet if my soul remembered
   You would not heed it, dear,
For now you must not listen,
   And then you could not hear.
Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From Rivers to the Sea | 1915
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