Buildings above the leafless trees Loom high as castles in a dream, While one by one the lamps come out To thread the twilight with a gleam. There is no sign of leaf or bud, A hush is over everything -- Silent as women wait for love, The world is waiting for the spring.
New York Sorrows
Song Cycle by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947)
1. Central Park at Dusk  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Central Park at Dusk", appears in Helen of Troy and Other Poems, first published 1911
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Broadway  [sung text checked 1 time]
This is the quiet hour; the theaters Have gathered in their crowds, and steadily The million lights blaze on for few to see, Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers. A woman waits with bag and shabby furs, A somber man drifts by, and only we Pass up the street unwearied, warm and free, For over us the olden magic stirs. Beneath the liquid splendor of the lights We live a little ere the charm is spent; This night is ours, of all the golden nights, The pavement an enchanted palace floor, And Youth the player on the viol, who sent A strain of music through an open door.
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Broadway"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. The kiss  [sung text checked 1 time]
I hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me, To-night my heart is sad; His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had.
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "The kiss", appears in Helen of Troy and Other Poems, first published 1911
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. The old maid  [sung text checked 1 time]
I saw her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me. Her hair was dull and drew no light, And yet its color was as mine; Her eyes were strangely like my eyes, Tho' love had never made them shine. Her body was a thing grown thin, Hungry for love that never came; Her soul was frozen in the dark, Unwarmed forever by love's flame. I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me -- His eyes were magic to defy The woman I shall never be.
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "The old maid"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. Coney Island  [sung text checked 1 time]
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.
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Coney Island"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]6. Less than the cloud to the wind  [sung text checked 1 time]
Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm, Am I to thee. More than the star to the night, More than the rain to the [tree]1, More than heaven to earth Art thou to me.
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Less than the cloud to the wind", appears in Helen of Troy and Other Poems, first published 1911
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Leoni: "lea"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
7. Summer night, riverside  [sung text checked 1 time]
In the wild soft summer darkness How many and many a night we two together Sat in the park and watched the Hudson Wearing her lights like golden spangles Glinting on black satin. The rail along the curving pathway Was low in a happy place to let us cross, And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom Sheltered us, While your kisses and the flowers, Falling, falling, Tangled in my hair. . . . The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky. And now, far off In the fragrant darkness The tree is tremulous again with bloom For June comes back. To-night what girl Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair This year's blossoms, clinging to its coils?
Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Summer night, riverside"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]