I have grown weary of the winds of heaven.
I will not be a reed to hold the sound
Of whatsoever breath the gods may blow,
Turning my torment into music for them.
They gave me life; the gift was bountiful,
I lived with the swift singing strength of fire,
Seeking for beauty as a flame for fuel -
Beauty in all things and in every hour.
The gods have given life - I gave them song;
The debt is paid and now I turn to go. (Sara Teasdale)

I have grown weary of the winds of heaven. I will not be a reed to hold the sound Of whatsoever breath the gods may blow, Turning my torment into music for them. They gave me life; the gift was bountiful, I lived with the swift singing strength of fire, Seeking for beauty as a flame for fuel - Beauty in all things and in every hour. The gods have given life - I gave them song; The debt is paid and now I turn to go.

Sara Teasdale

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beauty blow breath debt fire flame fuel gift given heaven hold hour life music now pay reed seeking singing song sound strength swift torment turning turn things gods

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