Sara Teasedale: The River

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.