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Sara Teasdale - The Cloud
Work rating: Low

I am a cloud in the heaven`s height, 
The stars are lit for my delight, 
Tireless and changeful, swift and free, 
I cast my shadow on hill and sea— 
But why do the pines on the mountain`s crest 
Call to me always, "Rest, rest"?

I throw my mantle over the moon 
And I blind the sun on his throne at noon, 
Nothing can tame me, nothing can bind, 
I am a child of the heartless wind— 
But oh the pines on the mountain`s crest 
Whispering always, "Rest, rest."
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