THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS AND THE SMELL OF THE GROUND,
AND SWALLOWS CIRCLING WITH THEIR SHIMMERING SOUND;
AND FROGS IN THE POOLS SINGING AT NIGHT,
AND WILD PLUM TREES IN TREMULOUS WHITE;
ROBINS WILL WEAR THEIR FEATHERY FIRE,
WHISTLING THEIR WHIMS ON A LOW FENCE-WIRE;
AND NOT ONE WILL KNOW OF THE WAR, NOT ONE
WILL CARE AT LAST WHEN IT IS DONE
NOT ONE WOULD MIND, NEITHER BIRD NOR TREE,
IF MANKING PERISHED UTTERLY;
AND SPRING HERSELF, WHEN SHE WOKE AT DAWN
WOULD SCARCELY KNOW THAT WE WERE GONE
sara teasdale
There is a song I wrote for you
A symbol of my love so true
Wrote in a grassy meadow
Beneath a sky so blue
In a land far, far away
Where unicorns romp and play
This is the land in which my heart has stayed
In this land, my love for you
I can portray
Written by Julie Schreiber
1991