Coney Island
Why did you bring me here?
The sand is white with snow,
Over the wooden domes
The winter sea-winds blow--
There is no shelter near,
Come, let us go.
With foam of icy lace
The sea creeps up the sand,
The wind is like a hand
That strikes us in the face.
Doors that June set a-swing
Are bolted long ago;
We try them uselessly--
Alas there cannot be
For us a second spring;
Come, let us go.
Sara Teasdale
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de Sara Teasdale
A Ballad of the Two Knights
Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to...
A Cry
Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his...
A Fantasy
Her voice is like clear water
That drips upon a stone
A Little While
A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music...
A Maiden
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
A Minuet of Mozart's
Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of...
A November Night
There! See the line of lights,
A chain of stars down...
A Prayer
When I am dying, let me know
That I loved the blowing...
A Song of the Princess
The princess has her lovers,
A score of knights has she,...
A Winter Bluejay
Crisply the bright snow whispered,
Crunching beneath our...
Précédentes poésies
You Ask Me, Why, Tho' Ill at Ease
You ask me, why, tho' ill at ease,
Within this...
Ulysses
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still...
To Virgil, Written at the Request of the Mantuans for the N
Roman Virgil, thou that singest
Ilion's lofty...
To Virgil
Written at the Request of the Mantuans for the Nineteenth...
To The Queen
O loyal to the royal in thyself,
And loyal to thy land,...
