Sarah Teasdale

Here you will find the Poem Morning of poet Sarah Teasdale


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.