Interim (Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems)
The room is full of you!—As I came in And closed the door behind me, all at once A something ...
The room is full of you!—As I came in And closed the door behind me, all at once A something ...
I When you, that at this moment are to me Dearer than words on paper, shall ...
Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The National Institute of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New ...
Son, said my mother,When I was knee-high,"You've need of clothes to cover you,And not a rag have I."There's nothing in ...
Ho, Giant! This is I!I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!La,—but it's lovely, up so high!This ...
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 ...
My heart is what it was before A house where people come and go, But it is winter with your ...
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.So it is, and so it ...
Time does not bring relief; you all have liedWho told me time would ease me of my pain!I miss him ...
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:How in the years to come unscrupulous Time,More cruel than Death, will tear ...
When we are old and these rejoicing veinsAre frosty channels to a muted stream,And out of all our burning their ...
I know I am but summer to your heart,And not the full four seasons of the year;And you must welcome ...
Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird.Bird and wing togetherGo down, one feather.No thing that ever flew,Not the ...
"Son," said my mother, When I was knee-high, "you've need of clothes to cover you, and not a rag have ...
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so ...
My heart is what it was before, A house where people come and go; But it is winter with your ...
The room is full of you!-As I came in And closed the door behind me, all at once A something ...
When will you learn, myself, to be a dying leaf on a living tree? Budding, swelling, growing strong, Wearing green, ...
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this: How in the years to come unscrupulous Time, More cruel than Death, ...
Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The Naional Institute of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New ...
I The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief ...
When we are old and these rejoicing veins Are frosty channels to a muted stream, And out of all our ...
Ho, Giant! This is I! I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky! La,-but it's lovely, up so high! ...
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I ...
I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year; And you ...
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