The Lights Of New York Poem by Sara Teasdale

The Lights Of New York

Rating: 3.2


The lightning spun your garment for the night
Of silver filaments with fire shot thru,
A broidery of lamps that lit for you
The steadfast splendor of enduring light.
The moon drifts dimly in the heaven's height,
Watching with wonder how the earth she knew
That lay so long wrapped deep in dark and dew,
Should wear upon her breast a star so white.
The festivals of Babylon were dark
With flaring flambeaux that the wind blew down;
The Saturnalia were a wild boy's lark
With rain-quenched torches dripping thru the town--
But you have found a god and filched from him
A fire that neither wind nor rain can dim.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Attracta 14 March 2018

Beautiful poem destroyed by digital robotic voice.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

Missouri / United States
Close
Error Success