Sara Teasdale

Spring Night

  The park is filled with night and fog,
   The veils are drawn about the world,
  The drowsy lights along the paths
   Are dim and pearled.

  Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
   Gold and gleaming the misty lake,
  The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
   Glimmer and shake.

  Oh, is it not enough to be
  Here with this beauty over me?
  My throat should ache with praise, and I
  Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
  O, beauty, are you not enough?
  Why am I crying after love,
  With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
  To take earth's wonder with surprise?

  Why have I put off my pride,
  Why am I unsatisfied,--
  I, for whom the pensive night
  Binds her cloudy hair with light,--
  I, for whom all beauty burns
  Like incense in a million urns?
  O beauty, are you not enough?
  Why am I crying after love?