Afternoon on a Hill
I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun;
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one;
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes;
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise;
And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down.
Edna St. Vincent Millay