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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Sara Teasdale

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Song

Sara Teasdale

From “Memories”

LET it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,

Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.

Let it be forgotten forever and ever—

Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten

Long and long ago—

As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall

In a long forgotten snow.