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Poem by Sara Teasdale
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.
Sara Teasdale
Sara Teasdale's other poems:- In a Cuban Garden
- Understanding
- White Fog
- Arcturus
- Bells
Poems of the other poets with the same name:
Thomas Aird Morning ("Gray brindled dawn comes up before the sun") Philip Bailey Morning ("She comes! how lovely are her smiles") Thomas Gent Morning ("Light as the breeze that hails the infant morn") Jones Very Morning ("The light will never open sightless eyes") Mary Robinson Morning ("O’ER fallow plains and fertile meads") Menella Smedley Morning ("How pleasant is the morning!") John Keble Morning ("Hues of the rich unfolding morn") Alaric Watts Morning ("Oh, burst the bonds of slumber") Charlotte Dacre Morning ("SEE light the hills adorning")
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