Sara Teasdale

Here you will find the Poem A Cry of poet Sara Teasdale

A Cry

Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
 And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
 Only a voice.

Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
 And lips whereon his lips can lie,
But I must be till I am dead
 Only a cry.


Submitted by Venus