The River by Sara Teasdale

I came from the sunny valleys 
And sought for the open sea, 
For I thought in its gray expanses 
My peace would come to me. 

I came at last to the ocean 
And found it wild and black, 
And I cried to the windless valleys, 
"Be kind and take me back!" 

But the thirsty tide ran inland, 
And the salt waves drank of me, 
And I who was fresh as the rainfall 
Am bitter as the sea.