Sara Teasdale — The River

I came from the sunny valleys    And sought for the open sea, For I thought in its gray expanses   My peace would come to me. I came at last to the ocean   And found it wild and black, And I cried to the windless valleys,   "Be kind and take me back!" But the thirsty tide ran inland,   And the salt waves drank of me, And I who was fresh as the rainfall   Am bitter as the sea.