Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his lute he fashions
A little silver tune.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
And all the roses know
That Pierrot loves his music,
But I love Pierrot.
Back to Sara Teasdale
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.