A Cry
Oh, there are eyes that he can see, And hands to make his hands rejoice, But to my lover I must be Only a voice.
Oh, there are breasts to bear his head, And lips whereon his lips can lie, But I must be till I am dead Only a cry.
Sara Teasdale
Oh, there are eyes that he can see, And hands to make his hands rejoice, But to my lover I must be Only a voice.
Oh, there are breasts to bear his head, And lips whereon his lips can lie, But I must be till I am dead Only a cry.
The speaker mourns a love in which she can never be physically present. While other women offer her lover visible eyes, welcoming hands, a breast to rest on, and lips to kiss, she can give him only sound.
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