Sara Teasdale — Buried Love

I have come to bury Love   Beneath a tree, In the forest tall and black   Where none can see. I shall put no flowers at his head,   Nor stone at his feet, For the mouth I loved so much   Was bittersweet. I shall go no more to his grave,   For the woods are cold. I shall gather as much of joy   As my hands can hold. I shall stay all day in the sun   Where the wide winds blow,— But oh, I shall cry at night   When none will know.