Poem by Sara Teasdale

The Fountain

OH in the deep blue night
    The fountain sang alone; 
It sang to the drowsy heart
    Of a satyr carved in stone.

The fountain sang and sang
    But the satyr never stirred-- 
Only the great white moon
    In the empty heaven heard.

The fountain sang and sang
    And on the marble rim 
The milk-white peacocks slept,
    Their dreams were strange and dim.

Bright dew was on the grass,
    And on the ilex dew, 
The dreamy milk-white birds
    Were all a-glisten too.

The fountain sang and sang
    The things one cannot tell, 
The dreaming peacocks stirred
    And the gleaming dew-drops fell.

1. Gray Fog
2. Spring Torrents
3. Morning Song
4. Nahant
5. Winter Dusk

William Wordsworth The Fountain ("We talked with open heart, and tongue")

Print

1943 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version