Sara Teasdale — Meadowlarks

In the silver light after a storm,        &nbsp Under dripping boughs of bright new green, I take the low path to hear the meadowlarks        &nbsp Alone and high-hearted as if I were a queen. What have I to fear in life or death        &nbsp Who have known three things: the kiss in the night, The white flying joy when a song is born,        &nbsp And meadowlarks whistling in silver light.