NPQiYBM

Okay, I haven't much been doing the name-the-quote thing that julianyap has been. Here's a name-the-author, anyway.

Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new

Whose names you meditate —
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

(What a heartbreaking poem, especially if you know who wrote it and when she wrote it. I came across this today while reading Sheila O'Malley's blog, which I love and have been following off and on (more off than on recently, alas) for several years now.)

ETA: Sylvia Plath. Written two weeks before her suicide.