Sara Teasdale - The Song Maker lyrics

I made a hundred little songs That told the joy and pain of love, And sang them blithely, tho' I knew No whit thereof. I was a weaver deaf and blind; A miracle was wrought for me, But I have lost my sk** to weave Since I can see. For while I sang—ah swift and strange! Love pa**ed and touched me on the brow, And I who made so many songs Am silent now.