| 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. | |
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| 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. | |
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| 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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