Sara Teasdale

The River

  I came from the sunny valleys
   And sought for the open sea,
  For I thought in its gray expanses
   My peace would come to me.

  I came at last to the ocean
   And found it wild and black,
  And I cried to the windless valleys,
   "Be kind and take me back!"

  But the thirsty tide ran inland,
   And the salt waves drank of me,
  And I who was fresh as the rainfall
   Am bitter as the sea.