Sara Teasedale: Desert Pools

Desert Pools

I Love too much; I am a river    Surging with spring that seeks the sea, I am too generous a giver,
   Love will not stoop to drink of me.
His feet will turn to desert places    Shadowless, reft of rain and dew, Where stars stare down with sharpened faces    From heavens pitilessly blue.
And there at midnight sick with faring,    He will stoop down in his desire To slake the thirst grown past all bearing    In stagnant water keen as fire.