There Will Come Soft Rains (By: Sara Teasdale)
By: Sara Teasdale 2 Oct 1999 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 mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.This began my whole inspiration for writting. Written February 26th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 01:55 PM PST 10 • 0 • 9
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"By: Sara Teasdale..."