On the Sussex Downs

by Sara Teasdale

Over the downs there were birds flying,
  Far off glittered the sea,
And toward the north the weald of Sussex
  Lay like a kingdom under me.

I was happier than the larks
  That nest on the downs and sing to the sky,
Over the downs the birds flying
  Were not so happy as I.

It was not you, though you were near,
  Though you were good to hear and see,
It was not earth, it was not heaven,
  It was myself that sang in me.

Monadnock Valley Press > Teasdale