by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)

Language: English 
I knew you thought of me all night,
I knew, though you were far away;
  I felt your love blow over me
  As if a dark wind-riven sea
Drenched me with quivering spray.

There are so many ways to love
And each way has its own delight --
  Then be content to come to me
  Only as spray the beating sea
Drives inland through the night.


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2008-06-04
Line count: 10
Word count: 65