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Read more poems by Sara Teasdale: Sara Teasdale Poems at Poetry X.

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The Fountain

Sara Teasdale

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.

Added: 16 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 21 Jul 2018 3:12 PM | Viewed: 6199 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4800/ | Viewed on 21 July 2018.
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