Sarah Teasdale

Here you will find thePoemMorning诗人的莎拉·蒂斯代尔

Morning

I went out on an April morning All alone, for my heart was high, I was a child of the shining meadow, I was a sister of the sky. There in the windy flood of morning Longing lifted its weight from me, Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering, Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.