Sara Teasdale

The Star

  • A WHITE star born in the evening glow
  • Looked to the round green world below,
  • And saw a pool in a wooded place
  • That held like a jewel her mirrored face.
  • She said to the pool: "Oh, wondrous deep,
  • I love you, I give you my light to keep.
  • Oh, more profound than the moving sea
  • That never has shown myself to me!
  • Oh, fathomless as the sky is far,
  • Hold forever your tremulous star!"
  • But out of the woods as night grew cool
  • A brown pig came to the little pool;
  • It grunted and splashed and waded in
  • And the deepest place but reached its chin.
  • The water gurgled with tender glee
  • And the mud churned up in it turbidly.
  • The star grew pale and hid her face
  • In a bit of floating cloud like lace.
Rivers to the Sea. New York: MacMillan, 1915.