Verse > Anthologies > Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. > The Book of New York Verse
Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed.  The Book of New York Verse.  1917.
Gramercy Park
By Sara Teasdale
THE LITTLE park was filled with peace,
  The walks were carpeted with snow,
But every iron gate was locked,
  Lest, if we entered, peace should go.
We circled it a dozen times,        5
  The wind was blowing from the sea,
I only felt your restless eyes
  Whose love was like a cloak for me.
Oh heavy gates that fate has locked
  To bar the joy we may not win,        10
Peace would go out forevermore
  If we should dare to enter in.

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