by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)
Language: English
My heart cried like a beaten child Ceaselessly all night long; I had to take my own cries And thread them into a song. One was a cry at black midnight And one when the first cock crew — My heart was like a beaten child, But no one ever knew. Life, you have put me in your debt And I must serve you long — But oh, the debt is terrible That must be paid in song.
Composition:
- Set to music by Dominick DiOrio , "Song Making", 2013 [ baritone and piano ], from A Ghost Through the Winding Years, no. 10
Text Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2024-07-12
Line count: 12
Word count: 78