Author Sara Teasdale I sang a song at dusking time Beneath the evening star,And Terence left his latest rhyme To answer from afar.Pierrot laid down his lute to weep, And sighed, “She sings for me,”But Colin slept a careless sleep Beneath an apple tree. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments