Explore "A Fantasy" by Sara Teasdale on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Her voice is like clear water / That drips upon a stone / In forests far and silent / Where Quiet plays alone.
Her thoughts are like the lotus / Abloom by sacred streams / Beneath the temple arches / Where Quiet sits and dreams.
Her kisses are the roses / That glow while dusk is deep / In Persian garden closes / Where Quiet falls asleep.