On A March Day

by Sara Teasdale

　　Here in the teeth of this triumphant wind That shakes the naked shadows on the ground, Making a key-board of the earth to strike From clattering tree and hedge a separate sound, Bear witness for me that I loved my life, All things that hurt me and all things that healed, And that I swore it this day in March, Here at the edge of this new-broken field. You only knew me, tell them I was glad For every hour since my hour of birth, And that I ceased to fear, as once I feared, The last complete reunion with the earth.