If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
If I could have two things in one: the peace of the grave, and the light of the sun. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
The fabric of my faithful love No power shall dim or ravel Whilst I stay here - but oh, my dear, If… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Cut if you will with sleep's dull knife, the years from off your life, my friend! the years that death takes off… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
When you publish something, it is very much as if you pulled your pants down in public. If what you have written… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
You wrote me a beautiful letter, I wonder if you meant it to be as beautiful as it was. I think you… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
I shall forget you presently, my dear, So make the most of this, your little day, Your little month, your little half… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
There are a hundred places where I fear To go, --so with his memory they brim! And entering with relief some quiet place Where… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief or grief has drained me… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, That… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Some of us have been thinking and talking too long without doing anything. Poems are perfect; picketing, sometimes, is better. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“But, sure, the sky is big, I said; Miles and miles above my head; So here upon my back I'll lie And look my… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
pity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
