Morning Song A diamond of a morning Waked me an hour too soon; Dawn had taken in the stars And left the faint white moon. O white moon, you are lon… - Sara Teasdale

The Long Hill

I must have passed the crest a while ago
And now I am going down — Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,
But the brambles were always grabbing at the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud I should be
To stand there straight as a queen,
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me — But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track
And the brambles caught in my gown — But it's no use now to think of turning back,
The rest of the way will be only going down.

A Boy

Out of the noise of tired people working,
Harried with thoughts of war and lists of dead,
His beauty met me like a fresh wind blowing,
Clean boyish beauty and high-held head.

Eyes that told secrets, lips that would not tell them,
Fearless and shy the young unwearied eyes — Men die by millions now, because God blunders,
Yet to have made this boy he must be wise.

My dreams are over, I have ceased to cry Against the fate that made men love my mouth And left their spirits all too deaf to hear The little songs that echoed through my soul. I have no anger now. The dreams are done; Yet since the Greeks and Trojans would not see Aught but my body's fairness, till the end, In all the islands set in all the seas, And all the lands that lie beneath the sun, Till light turn darkness, and till time shall sleep, Men's lives shall waste with longing after me, For I shall be the sum of their desire, The whole of beauty, never seen again.