Sara Teasdale - Song Making lyrics

My heart cried like a beaten child   Ceaselessly all night long; I had to take my own cries   And thread them into a song. One was a cry at black midnight   And one when the first co*k crew— My heart was like a beaten child,   But no one ever knew. Life, you have put me in your debt   And I must serve you long— But oh, the debt is terrible   That must be paid in song.