Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

A Winter Night - Poem by Sara Teasdale

My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.

God pity all the homeless ones,
The beggars pacing to and fro.
God pity all the poor to-night
Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.

My room is like a bit of June,
Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
But somewhere, like a homeless child,
My heart is crying in the cold.


Comments about A Winter Night by Sara Teasdale

Read all 4 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: june, snow, moon, child, wind, god, night, world, winter, heart, children, star



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



[Report Error]