| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | Spring Night | | By Sara Teasdale |
| | | THE PARK is filled with night and fog, | |
| The veils are drawn about the world, | |
| The drowsy lights along the paths | |
| Are dim and pearled. | |
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| Gold and gleaming the empty streets, | 5 |
| Gold and gleaming the misty lake, | |
| The mirrored lights like sunken swords, | |
| Glimmer and shake. | |
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| Oh, is it not enough to be | |
| Here with this beauty over me? | 10 |
| My throat should ache with praise, and I | |
| Should kneel in joy beneath the sky. | |
| Oh, beauty are you not enough? | |
| Why am I crying after love | |
| With youth, a singing voice and eyes | 15 |
| To take earth’s wonder with surprise? | |
| Why have I put off my pride, | |
| Why am I unsatisfied, | |
| I for whom the pensive night | |
| Binds her cloudy hair with light, | 20 |
| I for whom all beauty burns | |
| Like incense in a million urns? | |
| Oh, beauty, are you not enough? | |
| Why am I crying after love? | | | | |
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