“And as I played, a child came thro' the gate,
A boy who looked at me without a word,
As tho' he saw stretch far behind my head
Long lines of radiant angels, row on row.
That day we spoke a little, timidly,
And after that I never heard the voice
That sang so many songs for love of me.”

— Sara Teasdale

"Beatrice"
Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911)

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Sara Teasdale 39

American writer and poet 1884–1933

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“And as I played, a child came thro' the gate,A boy who looked at me without a word,As tho' he saw stretch far behind my headLong lines of radiant angels, row on row.That day we spoke a little, timidly,And after that I never heard the voiceThat sang so many songs for love of me.”

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Sara Teasdale 39

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“And as I played, a child came thro' the gate,
A boy who looked at me without a word,
As tho' he saw stretch far behind my head
Long lines of radiant angels, row on row.
That day we spoke a little, timidly,
And after that I never heard the voice
That sang so many songs for love of me.”