White with daisies and red with sorrel
And empty, empty under the sky! –
Life is a quest and love a quarrel –
Here is a place for me to lie.
Daisies dpring from damn?d seeds,
And this red fire that here I see
Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds,
Cursed by farmers thriftily.
But here, unhated for an hour,
The sorrel runs in ragged flame,
The daisy stands, a bastard flower,
Like flowers that bear an honest name.
And here a while, where no wind brings
The baying of a pack athirst,
May sleep the sleep of bless?d things,
The blood too bright, the brow accurst.
(Edna St. Vincent Millay)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Place Poems, Name Poems, Flowers Poems, Sleep Poems, Weeds Poems, Honesty & Integrity Poems, Disagreement & Quarelling PoemsBased on Keywords: baying, sorrel, thriftily, unhated