by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)

Language: English 
In the spring I asked the daisies
If his words were true,
And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
Always knew.

Now the fields are brown and barren,
Bitter autumn blows,
And of all the stupid asters
Not one knows.

Composition:

Text Authorship:

See other settings of this text.


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2018-07-06
Line count: 8
Word count: 38