The Cloud
by Sara Teasdale
I am a cloud in the heavens 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 mountains 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 mountains crest Whispering always, Rest, rest.
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