Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)
Off Algiers

Oh give me neither love nor tears,
   Nor dreams that sear the night with fire,
Go lightly on your pilgrimage
   Unburdened by desire.

Forget me for a month, a year,
   But, oh, beloved, think of me
When unexpected beauty burns
   Like sudden sunlight on the sea.

 
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