A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the… — 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
“ Love is Not All Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“I shall think of you Whenever I am most happy, whenever I am Most sad, whenever I see a beautiful thing. You… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“ Dirge Without Music I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is,… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
To a Young Poet Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird. Bird and wing together Go down, one feather. No… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“Now goes under, and I watch it go under, the sun That will not rise again. Today has seen the setting, in… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“ To Those Without Pity Cruel of heart, lay down my song. Your reading eyes have done me wrong. Not for you… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“Degraded bird, I give you back your eyes forever, ascend now whither you are tossed; Forsake this wrist, forsake this rhyme; Soar,… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“ Second Fig Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!” — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“Still must the poet as of old, In barren attic bleak and cold, Starve, freeze, and fashion verses to Such things as… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
I've written so many verses and keep on writing so many more that I became afraid that if I didn't write them… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“And all at once the heavy night Fell from my eyes and I could see, -- A drenched and dripping apple-tree, A… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and… — 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
