Chance
How many times we must have met Here on the street as strangers do, Children of chance we were, who passed
The door of heaven and never knew.
Sara Teasdale
How many times we must have met Here on the street as strangers do, Children of chance we were, who passed
The door of heaven and never knew.
Sara Teasdale's four lines imagine two people who have crossed paths again and again without realizing it. The speaker looks back and wonders how many times they must have met on an ordinary street, passing each other the way strangers do.
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