[Four Sonnets (1922)] (Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems)
I1.Love, though for this you riddle me with darts,.And drag me at your chariot till I die, --.Oh, heavy prince! ...
I1.Love, though for this you riddle me with darts,.And drag me at your chariot till I die, --.Oh, heavy prince! ...
This door you might not open, and you did;So enter now, and see for what slight thingYou are betrayed... Here ...
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
Aye, but she?Your other sister and my other soulGrave Silence, lovelierThan the three loveliest maidens, what of her?Clio, not you,Not ...
The room is full of you!—As I came in And closed the door behind me, all at once A something ...
Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more! Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore! ...
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 ...
God had called us, and we came;Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor's house,Open flung to us, ...
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 ...
Down, you mongrel, Death!Back into your kennel!I have stolen breathIn a stalk of fennel!You shall scratch and you shall whineMany ...
(He speaks, but to himself, being aware how it is with her)Think not I have not heard.Well-fanged the double wordAnd ...
We were very tired, we were very merry — We had gone back and forth all night upon the ferry. It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable — But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table, We lay on the hill-top underneath the moon; And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon. We were very tired, we were very merry — We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry; And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear, From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere; And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold, And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold. We were very tired, we were very merry, We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. We hailed, "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head, And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read; And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and the pears, And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.(Edna St. Vincent Millay)
I had a little Sorrow, Born of a little Sin, I found a room all damp with gloom And shut us all within; And, "Little Sorrow, weep," said I, "And, Little Sin, pray God to die, And I upon the floor will lie And think how bad I've been!" Alas for pious planning — It mattered not a whit! As far as gloom went in that room, The lamp might have been lit! My Little Sorrow would not weep, My Little Sin would go to sleep — To save my soul I could not keep My graceless mind on it! So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad. And, "One thing there's no getting by — I've been a wicked girl," said I; "But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!"(Edna St. Vincent Millay)
What should I be but a prophet and a liar, Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar? ...
Ho, Giant! This is I!I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!La,—but it's lovely, up so high!This ...
Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad, And love me if you like. I shall not hear the door shut Nor the knocker strike. Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts, And wed me if you will. I'd make a man a good wife, Sensible and still. And why should I be cold, my lad, And why should you repine, Because I love a dark head That never will be mine? I might as well be easing you As lie alone in bed And waste the night in wanting A cruel dark head. You might as well be calling yours What never will be his, And one of us be happy. There's few enough as is.(Edna St. Vincent Millay)
Ah, could I lay me down in this long grassAnd close my eyes, and let the quiet windBlow over me—I ...
Searching my heart for its true sorrow,This is the thing I find to be:That I am weary of words and ...
Let us abandon then our gardens and go homeAnd sit in the sitting-roomShall the larkspur blossom or the corn grow ...
It's little I care what path I take, And where it leads it's little I care; But ...
Let them bury your big eyesIn the secret earth securely,Your thin fingers, and your fair,Soft, indefinite-colored hair,—All of these in ...
No, I will go alone.I will come back when it's over.Yes, of course I love you.No, it will not be ...
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 ...
I knew her for a little ghost That in my garden walked; The wall is high—higher than most— ...
Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stamens ...
My heart is what it was before A house where people come and go, But it is winter with your ...
Now goes under, and I watch it go under, the sunThat will not rise again.Today has seen the setting, in ...
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death.I hear him leading his horse out of ...
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