I SHALL NOT CARE

by: Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

      HEN I am dead and over me bright April
      Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
      Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
      I shall not care.
       
      I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
      When rain bends down the bough,
      And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
      Than you are now.
       
      I love too much; I am a river
      Surging with spring that seeks the sea,
      I am too generous a giver,
      Love will not stoop to drink of me.
       
      His feet will turn to desert places
      Shadowless, reft of rain and dew,
      Where stars stare down with sharpened faces
      From heavens pitilessly blue.
       
      And there at midnight sick with faring,
      He will stoop down in his desire
      To slake the thirst grown past all bearing
      In stagnant water keen as fire.

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