Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
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This poem is not my favorite by Sara Teasdale but is one of my top ten. My favorite so far is A Ballad of Two Knights.
'Wefts of sound.' I find this metaphor quite inventive, making a meaningful union. And the rhyme scheme is well-made and brings to the poem a rich value. Well-done!