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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513545" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A November Night</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There! See the line of lights,<br> A chain of stars down either side the street --<br> Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,<br> A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round<br> And you could play with it. You smile at me<br> As though I were a little dreamy child<br> Behind whose eyes the fairies live. . . . And see,<br> The people on the street look up at us<br> All envious. We are a king and queen,<br> Our royal carriage is a motor bus,<br> We watch our subjects with a haughty joy. . . .<br> How still you are! Have you been hard at work<br> And are you tired to-night? It is so long<br> Since I have seen you -- four whole days, I think.<br> My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts<br> Like early flowers in an April meadow,<br> And I must give them to you, all of them,<br> Before they fade. The people I have met,<br> The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things<br> That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows<br> That hurry, gesturing along a wall,<br> Haunting or gay -- and yet they all grow real<br> And take their proper size here in my heart<br> When you have seen them. . . . There's the Plaza now,<br> A lake of light! To-night it almost seems<br> That all the lights are gathered in your eyes,<br> Drawn somehow toward you. See the open park<br> Lying below us with a million lamps<br> Scattered in wise disorder like the stars.<br> We look down on them as God must look down<br> On constellations floating under Him<br> Tangled in clouds. . . . Come, then, and let us walk<br> Since we have reached the park. It is our garden,<br> All black and blossomless this winter night,<br> But we bring April with us, you and I;<br> We set the whole world on the trail of spring.<br> I think that every path we ever took<br> Has marked our footprints in mysterious fire,<br> Delicate gold that only fairies see.<br> When they wake up at dawn in hollow tree-trunks<br> And come out on the drowsy park, they look<br> Along the empty paths and say, &quot;Oh, here<br> They went, and here, and here, and here! Come, see,<br> Here is their bench, take hands and let us dance<br> About it in a windy ring and make<br> A circle round it only they can cross<br> When they come back again!&quot; . . . Look at the lake --<br> Do you remember how we watched the swans<br> That night in late October while they slept?<br> Swans must have stately dreams, I think. But now<br> The lake bears only thin reflected lights<br> That shake a little. How I long to take<br> One from the cold black water -- new-made gold<br> To give you in your hand! And see, and see,<br> There is a star, deep in the lake, a star!<br> Oh, dimmer than a pearl -- if you stoop down<br> Your hand could almost reach it up to me. . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> There was a new frail yellow moon to-night --<br> I wish you could have had it for a cup<br> With stars like dew to fill it to the brim. . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;<br> They have put shawls of fog around them, see!<br> What if the air should grow so dimly white<br> That we would lose our way along the paths<br> Made new by walls of moving mist receding<br> The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!<br> That was our bench the time you said to me<br> The long new poem -- but how different now,<br> How eerie with the curtain of the fog<br> Making it strange to all the friendly trees!<br> There is no wind, and yet great curving scrolls<br> Carve themselves, ever changing, in the mist.<br> Walk on a little, let me stand here watching<br> To see you, too, grown strange to me and far. . . .<br> I used to wonder how the park would be<br> If one night we could have it all alone --<br> No lovers with close arm-encircled waists<br> To whisper and break in upon our dreams.<br> And now we have it! Every wish comes true!<br> We are alone now in a fleecy world;<br> Even the stars have gone. We two alone!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sara+Teasdale">Sara Teasdale</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513545" data-title="A November Night de Sara Teasdale" data-description="There! See the line of lights,
 A chain of stars down either side the street --
 Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,
 A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round
 And you could play with it. You smile at me
 As though I were a little ..."></div>
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