Renascence (Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems)
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
I When you, that at this moment are to me Dearer than words on paper, shall ...
Let us abandon then our gardens and go homeAnd sit in the sitting-roomShall the larkspur blossom or the corn grow ...
Let them bury your big eyesIn the secret earth securely,Your thin fingers, and your fair,Soft, indefinite-colored hair,—All of these in ...
IThe first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of ...
When will you learn, myself, to bea dying leaf on a living tree?Budding, swelling, growing strong,Wearing green, but not for ...
Brother, that breathe the August airTen thousand years from now,And smell—if still your orchards bearTart apples on the bough—The early ...
In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year, I walked the road beside my dear. The ...
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my ...
Even in the moment of our earliest kiss,When sighed the straitened bud into the flower,Sat the dry seed of most ...
NEVER, never may the fruit be plucked from the bough And gathered into barrels. He that would eat of love ...
Doubt no more that Oberon—Never doubt that PanLived, and played a reed, and ranAfter nymphs in a dark forest,In the ...
The trees along this city street Save for the traffic and the trains, Would make a sound as thin and ...
If I grow bitterly,Like a gnarled and stunted tree,Bearing harshly of my youthPuckered fruit that sears the mouth;If I make ...
If I were to walk this wayHand in hand with Grief,I should mark that maple-sprayComing into leaf.I should note how ...
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my ...
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year, I walked the road beside my dear. The ...
The trees along this city street, Save for the traffic and the trains, Would make a sound as thin and ...
Let us abandon then our gardens and go home And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the ...
Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair,- ...
When will you learn, myself, to be a dying leaf on a living tree? Budding, swelling, growing strong, Wearing green, ...
There it was I saw what I shall never forget And never retrieve. Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard ...
Doubt no more that Oberon- Never doubt that Pan Lived, and played a reed, and ran After nymphs in a ...
I The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief ...
If I were to walk this way Hand in hand with Grief, I should mark that maple-spray Coming into leaf. ...
If I grow bitterly, Like a gnarled and stunted tree, Bearing harshly of my youth Puckered fruit that sears the ...
Brother, that breathe the August air Ten thousand years from now, And smell-if still your orchards bear Tart apples on ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories