The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
But not to me.
My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be;
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
But not to me.
(Sara Teasdale)
More Poetry from Sara Teasdale:
Sara Teasdale Poems based on Topics: Night, Love, Nature, War & Peace- I Thought Of You (Sara Teasdale Poems)
- Sleepless (Sara Teasdale Poems)
- Doubt (Sara Teasdale Poems)
- Because (Sara Teasdale Poems)
- Gray Eyes (Sara Teasdale Poems)
- Jewels (Sara Teasdale Poems)