Poetry Archives
@ eMule.com
      
advanced
tips
   
 Poetry » Classic Poets » Sara Teasdale »
 But Not To Me
 E-Mail  Printable View

But Not To Me
by Sara Teasdale

The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
But not to me.

My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be;
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
But not to me.