PART I - SPRING

PART I: SPRING

IN Central Park the lovers sit,
On every hilly path they stroll,
Each thinks his love is infinite,
And crowns his soul.

But we are cynical and wise,
We walk a careful foot apart,
You make a little joke that tries
To hide your heart.

Give over, we have laughed enough;
Oh dearest and most foolish friend,
Why do you wage a war with love
To lose your battle in the end?

Content of PART I: SPRING [Sara Teasdale's poem collection: Rivers to the Sea]

Read next: PART I#THE LIGHTED WINDOW

Read previous: PART I#THE LOOK

Table of content of Rivers to the Sea



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