CITY DUSK

by: F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940)

      OME out . . . . out
      To this inevitable night of mine
      Oh you drinker of new wine,
      Here's pageantry . . . . Here's carnival,
      Rich dusk, dim streets and all
      The whispering of city night . . . .
       
      I have closed my book of fading harmonies,
      (The shadows fell across me in the park)
      And my soul was sad with violins and trees,
      And I was sick for dark,
      When suddenly it hastened by me, bringing
      Thousands of lights, a haunting breeze,
      And a night of streets and singing . . . .
       
      I shall know you by your eager feet
      And by your pale, pale hair;
      I'll whisper happy incoherent things
      While I'm waiting for you there . . . .
       
      All the faces unforgettable in dusk
      Will blend to yours,
      And the footsteps like a thousand overtures
      Will blend to yours,
      And there will be more drunkenness than wine
      In the softness of your eyes on mine . . . .
       
      Faint violins where lovely ladies dine,
      The brushing of skirts, the voices of the night
      And all the lure of friendly eyes . . . . Ah there
      We'll drift like summer sounds upon the summer air . . . .

"City Dusk" is reprinted from the Nassau Literary Magazine, April 1918.

MORE POEMS BY F. SCOTT FITZGERALD

RELATED LINKS

BROWSE THE POETRY ARCHIVE:

[ A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z ]

Home · Poetry Store · Links · Email · © 2002 Poetry-Archive.com